Love’s Arithmetic Is Different

By Fred Jessett

The summer Lad MacAdam fell in love with a beautiful, talented, sophisticated dancer from New York, he had no idea it would change his life in ways he never imagined. He almost lost her twice and then believed they would be together forever. But she had secrets and he discovered the power of real love beyond falling in love. Both their lives became amazing stories of that real love.

Love stories don’t always end the way we want them to. Some end happily, some not so much. Some just end differently than we expected. And some don’t ever end. Sometimes we find someone, sometimes someone finds us. Sometimes we find love, sometimes love finds us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fred Jessett
• Release date: Aug 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005885007

Fred Jessett

Fred Jessett lives and writes fiction and creative non-fiction in Washington State. His work has appeared in 17 different publications including the Seattle Times and The Sun. His first book, Remembering Grace, a collection of true short stories, was published in 2006. A retired Episcopal priest and one time US Army officer, he and Kris, his wife of 54 years, have 4 children and 7 grandchildren.

Book preview

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

LOVE’S ARITHMETIC IS DIFFERENT

A Novel

FRED JESSETT

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Love’s Arithmetic Is Different

Copyright 2021 Fred Jessett

All rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, photocopying, recording, or by any information retrieval or storage system without the express written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, establishments, locales or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design: Mike Dixon, Rastrographics

Interior Layout: Laura Shinn Designs

http://laurashinn.yolasite.com

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Other books by Fred Jessett

Fiction

My Name Is Tamar:

A Tale for Ancient Canaan

Drummer Loves Dancer:

She Has Secrets. He Has Hope

Getting Past Point No Point:

Nine Short Stories With Meaning

Non-Fiction

Remembering Grace

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

This book is dedicated to my wife, Kris.

We have lived a real life love story for over 60 years.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Table of Contents

PART I: 1954 – 1955

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

PART II: 1957

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

PART III: 1958 – 1966

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

PART IV: 1969 – 1971

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

PART V: 1974 – 1975

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Acknowledgments

About the Author

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PART I: 1954 -- 1955

Chapter 1

1954

A huge hole opened up in my life as the Boeing Stratocruiser lifted off the ground carrying Ginger DeForest back to New York from Seattle. I watched as the plane climbed higher, slowly turned east and disappeared from sight. Ginger had been the center of my life for two months and now she was gone. It felt as if my heart went with her, and the world seemed suddenly empty as I drove away from Sea-Tac that hot, bright August afternoon in 1954.

On the drive home something happened to totally change my mood. Something so powerful the only thing I wanted to do -- had to do -- was write Ginger to tell her.

I parked my ‘47 Buick at the curb on the south side of my family’s Seattle home and walked quickly toward the back door.

Angel, my fifteen year-old kid sister, was sitting on the back steps wearing a white tee-shirt and shorts which revealed her honey colored skin and the prosthesis below the knee on her left leg, where her lower leg and foot should have been. As I got close, she looked up from reading her book.

Everything go okay at the airport? Her dark almond eyes seemed to be searching my face for clues. Closing the book, she stood and opened her arms. You look like you could use a hug.

I put my arms around her. She’s gone.

As we ended the hug, I said, Thanks, Angleworm. I reached out and mussed Angel’s straight black hair a little. You’re a darn good kid.

You’re not too bad yourself, Slugbait, for an old guy of twenty.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments then Angel said, You really, really miss her already, don’t you. It wasn’t a question.

Yes, I really, truly do.

I walked through the back door into the kitchen.

My older sister, Junie, was seated in the breakfast nook. She stood and walked to me, her blue eyes fixed on mine.

Ginger left on schedule?

Yup.

I guess you must feel pretty lonely right now. She brushed stray strands of her blonde hair from her face and hugged me.

I couldn’t repress a sigh. Yeah, I’m missing her, but right now I need to write her a letter.

Crossing the kitchen to the basement stairs, I went down and picked up a sheet of writing paper and a clipboard from my study area. Then I went out on the front porch and looked down at Green Lake where Ginger and I met and where so much had happened. I dropped into a wicker armchair and began writing.

Dear Dancer,

As soon as your plane took off, everything suddenly felt empty. That’s the word – empty. I sat in my car in the parking lot and bawled, and prayed for you. The drive home was just awful. I got the idea if I went to the house where you and Lisa had stayed I might feel some connection to you, but when I got there the owners were back. He was mowing the lawn and she was sweeping the porch. Nothing of you, of us, was left there.

I drove on and then decided to stop at the Aqua Theater. I parked right where I used to wait for you. I looked at the entrance where I saw you come out so many nights. And, for just a few moments, it felt as if you might really appear.

Then the most amazing thing happened. I had turned the radio on but wasn’t paying much attention until I realized I was hearing the Elgar variations piece we heard the first night we made love. Suddenly it was God singing again. Peace and love, and knowing life has meaning – all the feelings were there. I had tears on my face, but I wasn’t sad. I was so glad to hear and feel it again. And, maybe you won’t believe this, but I’d swear God was singing your name. So it still hurts that you’re not here, but I’m not sad.

Everything we did was because we love each other and love is the most important thing. I believe our love will be blessed and we’ll be together for life.

I’m lonely without you, but I do not, and will not ever, regret falling in love with you because it is the most fantastic and beautiful experience in my life.

And just so you know, I pray every day God will keep you safe and bring us back together.

Dancer, I love you forever,

Drummer

I addressed the envelope, put the letter in and sealed it. Once I’ve mailed this, all I can do is wait for a letter or phone call from her.

That evening Junie, Angel and I sat down to supper in the kitchen’s little breakfast nook, the spicy sweet scent of the petunias in the window box outside wafting in through the open window.

Junie kept giving me questioning glances across the table. Lad, do you feel like talking about this summer, or is it too soon?

I put down my fork and looked at both sisters. It’s been the best, the most wonderful summer of my life. I just know what Ginger and I started this summer is going to go on for the rest of our lives. I’m definitely committed to her for life.

Junie frowned. That’s a pretty big commitment to make when you’re only half way through college, not to mention that you and Ginger only had a short time together, and she’s now on the other side of the continent.

Junie’s trying to keep me from getting hurt. I don’t need to be protected from love.

Maybe so, but Ginger and I went through a whole lot of stuff together, and we know each other so well. I paused and took a drink of iced tea. It’s got to mean we’re connected in a way that won’t ever get broken.

Junie finally smiled. Well, I certainly hope she feels the same way, little brother.

When neither of us said anything more, Angel, who had been uncharacteristically quiet while Junie and I talked, spoke up. I’ve got something for you. Picking up an envelope from beside her on the seat she slid it across the table to me.

I opened it and found two snapshots of Ginger and me. The first, taken the weekend I took her to the church camp to meet my sisters, showed us standing outside the chapel talking with Junie. The second was at the highland games where we were embracing right after my band had played in competition. There was Ginger, her pony tail of light brown hair, oval face with large eyes, small ears nose and mouth. And her beautiful dancer’s body.

Wow. I never even thought about taking pictures this summer. I completely missed the boat. I reached over the table and took Angel’s hand. Thanks, Angleworm, you’re the best little sister ever.

You’re welcome, Slugbait. I got the film developed last week. I’ve been waiting for the right time to give you these. I figured you’d want to send copies to Ginger so I got two made of each. And I have the negatives.

Wow, thank you. Yes, I’ll put them in the mail right away.

After supper I felt tired and worn out emotionally. Still aching from my injuries in the car accident twelve days earlier that nearly killed Ginger, and put both of us in the hospital; I decided to turn in early. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep.

The next day I just lounged around the house since Junie wouldn’t let me do anything.

That evening at 7:00 the phone rang.

MacAdam residence, this is Lad.

Hi, Drummer.

It’s her! Dancer! Are you home? Is everything OK? Man, it’s so good to hear her voice.

Yes, I got in early this morning. Everything’s all right, but the trip was so sad. I felt terribly lonesome for you. The only way I could get any sleep, and not cry all night, was telling myself when I got to New York I could go right to the ticket counter and buy a ticket on the next flight back to Seattle. By the time I landed in New York this morning I knew I wouldn’t do it, although part of me still wants to.

Everything around me faded away. I was totally focused on the phone and her voice. I’m missing you something awful too. I wish you could get the next plane back.

She sighed, I know, but it doesn’t really make sense.

I suppose you’re right, just wish it did.

Her voice sounded a little weepy. This is why I didn’t want to fall in love with you, dammit. It hurts to be away from you. I have to be in New York and back into my life here, but right now I’m missing you something fierce. I called because I needed to hear your voice.

Boy, I sure needed to hear you too. You can call me any evening because I’m not going anywhere.

That’s the other reason I called. I’m going to be really busy. There are two shows I want to audition for and I need to get back to my regular dance lessons. Also there’s preparing for another year of college. I may find it hard to get letters written so I might call you instead. I have a lot of evening commitments, but I think this time, Thursday, about ten o’clock in New York, would be good for me to call you if it’s all right with you.

Yes, I’ll make sure I’m here.

I won’t call every week. If I get a good letter written and off to you then I won’t call, unless I just need to hear your voice. If I don’t call, you’ll know a letter’s coming.

That sounds good to me. Gee, it’s so good to hear year voice, Dancer. Hey, I mailed a letter to you today. A truly amazing thing happened on my way home from the airport. I heard God sing again. It’s all in the letter. It made me feel a lot better.

Oh Drummer, that’s wonderful. I’ll watch for the letter. I feel much better now I’ve talked to you, but I need to hang up and go to bed. I have an early meeting tomorrow. I love you, Drummer.

And I love you, Dancer, always.

I put the receiver back on the phone. I could hardly believe how much her phone call had lifted some of my loneliness. I hope she calls again, hearing her voice really helps.

* * * * *

The next Monday I went back to work for the fencing company, the first time since the accident. The boss told me I had to take it easy so I wasn’t allowed to dig any post holes or pick up anything heavy. I just nailed boards on the frame and didn’t have to hold more than one board at a time. It felt good to be out in the warm sun with an occasional breeze blowing by. The yard we were fencing overlooked Lake Washington’s smooth blue surface, and looking at it also helped to lift my spirits.

When I got home, Ginger’s first letter had arrived. I tore it open and began to read. The letter was short, all about people she planned to contact and what she hoped to be doing the next few days. At the end she wrote:

I don’t know if Seattle will become like Brigadoon sometime in the future, but right now, for me, Seattle is you.

I love you, Drummer, and I’m still yours.

Dancer

That evening I sat down and wrote another letter so I could put it in the mail the next day. I didn’t have a lot to tell her except how much I loved and missed her. I put in a couple of lines about being back at work and that my sisters sent their love too. Then I wrote, A picture is worth a thousand words and tucked in the two pictures. I added P. S. Angel took these.

* * * * *

Wednesday, September 1, my parents returned from Nova Scotia. Junie and Angel met them at Sea-Tac airport and drove them home. I got home from work about half an hour after they did.

When I came through the back door into the kitchen, Mom was standing next to Junie. Except for mom’s greying hair and a few wrinkles they could have been twins.

Mom had a big smile but also a tear ran down her cheek. She gave me a big hug, saying,

Lad, it’s so good to finally see you. I was awfully upset and afraid when we heard about the accident. Then she didn’t say anything more, just hugged me hard.

It’s OK, Mom, it was scary. I was so afraid for Ginger.

Mom let go of me when Dad walked into the kitchen so he could hug me too. He did and then said, Son, I guess you’ve had quite a summer.

I nodded, Yes, just about the best one ever, even with the accident.

You can tell us all about it at supper. We’re going to meet the Sinclairs, including Geordie and Angus, at Ruby Chow’s, so go get cleaned up and then we need to leave.

The Sinclairs were waiting for us when we arrived. All nine of us sat at one big round table. As we ate my parents gave us a brief rundown on what they had done and how much they had learned about our family in Nova Scotia. The Sinclairs filled my folks in on the Highland Games and other events of the summer in Seattle.

When we were almost finished eating, my mother turned to me. Lad, what we’d all really like to hear about is whatever you’d like to tell us about this summer with you and Ginger DeForest.

So I gave them a pretty clear picture of my summer with Ginger. Of course, I didn’t tell them any of Ginger’s secrets, or that we had actually slept together.

* * * * *

Five days later, Labor Day, I went with the band to Ellensburg for the parade and rodeo.

When I got back, I grabbed paper and pen and wrote to Ginger.

Dear Dancer,

Have I got a story for you. On Labor Day I rode the bus with the pipe band to Ellensburg for the parade. I dressed in my band uniform but I didn’t march in the parade because everyone felt I was still too banged up to carry a drum and all that. I went along to watch. Ellensburg isn’t our favorite parade for two reasons – it’s always hot, and there are lots of horses. But it pays the band pretty well and we get free admission to the rodeo after the parade.

Angel begged her way onto the bus to ride with her best friend, Geordie Sinclair. You remember Geordie, the girl you thought was such a good dancer you got her into Carousel? She and Heather MacBean march with the band and dance the Highland Fling or the sword dance as part of our band’s performance.

Still suffering from some jet lag from their trip, Dad and Mom had agreed to let Angel go, if she stayed with me, so we could look after each other.

In Ellensburg we got off the bus and the band guys made adjustments to their uniforms. We wore our light-weight white tunics with high collars and our kilts of Hunting Steward tartan.

As usual the pipers took what seemed an interminable time tuning up.

Finally the band lined up for the parade. You need to know how this was to understand what followed. They lined up in three ranks of four pipers each. The fourth rank was Mullan in the middle with big drum, flanked on each side by tenor drummers O’Toole and MacGregor. In the last rank, four side drummers, from left to right O’Dea, taking my place, Anderson, Clancy and Riley.

In front of the band marched the Drummie, our drum major who commanded us to start, stop, change direction or counter-march. He signals all commands with the long mace he carries in addition to calling them out.

Angel and I walked along the route watching the band. About half-way through the parade, the band was playing Cock o’ the North when it happened. Did I mention this was a rodeo parade? There were a lot of horses – many were ahead of the band. So there were the inevitable piles of road apples.

Mullan, his vision obscured by the big drum, didn’t see one big pile. His left foot landed smack in the middle of it. His foot slid forward. He struggled to keep his balance, but he was tipping backward. Shoving their drums aside, Anderson and Clancy, the closest side drummers, lunged forward awkwardly to catch Mullan before he fell too far. His foot was still sliding forward. All three of them were slowly sinking down toward the now mashed and fragrant stuff. Patrick O’Dea, on the far left side and Riley rushed to try to stop the looming catastrophe. And so the five of them arrived momentarily at a state of dynamic homeostatic equilibrium right over the foul feces. No danger then of falling, but no one could move in any direction without threatening to bring the whole thing down.

I tried to get to them but the crowd was pretty thick and I had a hard time getting through.

The pipers and the tenor drummer, who hadn’t seen what happened, continued marching and playing down the street. Drummie out front heard the sudden loss of drum power and immediately signaled a counter march.

Drummie saved the day. Taking in the scene in an instant, he ran through the ranks of pipers, tossed his mace to me as I finally got through the crowd. Then he caught hold of the bass drum and pulled Mullan upright. Drummie also managed to unhook the drum from Mullan’s chest and jerk it out of range. With that, their dynamic equilibrium evaporated and all five drummers staggered around trying not to fall or step in the manure. It took a few minutes to recover and get back to their places in the ranks.

Through all the last part of this, the three ranks of pipers stood facing the drummers, some still playing, some watching and laughing at the spectacle.

Shaking his head, Drummie handed the bass drum back to Riley. I couldnae stand the sight of ye getting horse jobbie all ower a per-r-fectly good big drum.

I gave Drummie back his mace and he ordered pipers to about face as he marched back to the front of the band.

The crowd was laughing, applauding and cheering. Holding the big drum in his left hand Riley turned to the crowd on the left side and bowed, then did the same to his right, then swung the drum up into place as the pipe major called out The Muckin’ o’ Geordie’s Byre.

Drummie called out, By the right, quick march, the drummers ripped off two three beat rolls, the pipers struck in their pipes, and the band marched away from the pile of doom. From that point on, Mullan marched sort of sideways to he could see clearly ahead.

That’s the big news from here except to say how much I think of you all the time and wish you were here. I love you, Dancer, and I think I won’t feel whole again until I’m with you.

Your Drummer,

Lad

Ginger’s letter the next week was more cheerful, and full of all the places she had been, friends she had seen, and her hopes for productions she planned to audition for.

Still, Lad, I find that things here seem very different. Maybe I’m seeing them through changed eyes. I think I want something that has more meaning or something like that. I know I’m missing you, but I also have an uneasy feeling I need something more that isn’t here. I keep thinking about what I experienced while I was in the coma after the car wreck. It makes what I’m doing here seem a little thin, if that makes any sense to you. I’m not sure continuing on with what I’m doing is the right thing now. I have to think about it. I wish you were here so I could talk it over with you for a couple of hours.

One thing I’d appreciate is if you would tell me why you feel that the purpose of your life is to teach biology. You never said that in so many words, but you did talk about how important it is to find your purpose. And it sounded like you knew the purpose for your life. Can you tell me how and why you feel that?

Thank you for the snapshots. Angel was pretty sharp to get those without us knowing. They’re good, and they brought up a lot of emotions for a few minutes, but I kept things under control – mostly.

I’m so much in love with you, Drummer, that I hate being separated, but this has to be right now.

Love, Dancer

I put down her letter and thought about her question. I could tell her why, or at least try.

Dear Dancer,

The short answer to your question is that my high school class in biology really got me excited. It was the part about evolution that triggered it. I know that may sound odd since some people think evolution is against the Bible. Others just don’t think it makes sense because they don’t really understand it. For me it opened up a realization that life on this planet is such a wondrous thing.

We don’t know if there is life anywhere else in the universe. Even if there is it may not be as amazingly diverse as it is here. I know that certain conditions have to be just right for life to exist, much less to evolve in such different ways.

Take water for instance. If there wasn’t so much of it or if it didn’t expand when it freezes, we wouldn’t have any life. Every other liquid on earth contracts when it freezes, but water expands. So ice floats on the surface. If it was like everything else, ice would drop to the bottom and so from the very beginning all the water would have been be frozen from the bottom up. No available water – no life.

The most amazing thing to me is the diversity of life here. Seemingly random changes in genes over long periods of time result in new species. There’s such an array of different life forms, from microscopic to gigantic. It’s amazing.

Life is so rich, so complex and I love studying it. I hope I can inspire at least some students to do the same. Also, I want them to know that evolution doesn’t take God out of the picture. God is right there but willing to let the laws He built into the universe work. God has an eternity of time to wait for us to become what He knows we can be. But I’m not a determinist; I think new things can happen that could not be precisely predicted from any previous level of knowledge. Maybe that sounds like too much philosophy, but that is my minor, as you may remember.

Also the purpose of my life, my vocation, isn’t just about teaching biology.

I wanted to write Loving you and our children is a big part of my purpose. I knew that would be pushing her too far so instead I wrote,

Loving my wife and children will also be a big part of my purpose. Having a really loving home and finding ways to build a strong community where we live is important. Being a Christian and really living my faith in the way I treat others is important. All of that involves loving.

I guess it boils down to loving and being loved. So there’s a lot more to it. It’s not just teaching biology but that is very important.

I want so much for you to be with me in that life. Right now I can’t see exactly how we get there but I have faith we can find a way. Soon, I hope.

All my love, Drummer

Ginger and I exchanged more letters and then, despite the fact I had received a letter from her two days earlier, she called on September 19th. Angel answered the phone and then she shouted, Lad! It’s Ginger! I raced to the phone.

I blurted, Dancer, what’s happened?

Hi Lad, I’ve got big news. She sounded almost breathless. I’m going to Paris. I fly out on Sunday.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Chapter 2

1954 --1955

My jaw dropped, Paris? Paris, France?

You remember I wrote you that at first when I got back here I found things exciting, but I wanted something that wasn’t here? You weren’t here, of course, but you’ve never been here, and it’s here in New York where things don’t feel quite right. That feeling kept getting stronger until I finally realized it’s me. I need to find out who I am.

Still stunned, I blurted, You’re going to Paris to find out who you are?

Yes. Everything that happened this summer with you made me realize I need to learn more about my family. You and your sisters know who you are and what you want in life because you know where you came from. My parents kept everything about their families secret. I feel I won’t know who I truly am and what I truly want until I know more about where I’ve come from and who my family is, or was.

And you think you’ll find this in Paris?

"Yes. Ever since I learned the secrets about my parents’ backgrounds, I’ve had questions. Who am I? What am I? Now I’ve decided to do something about it. I can’t find anything about my father’s side because he absolutely refuses to ever tell me anything, not even the state where he was born, or what his name was before he changed it.

"I did manage to get from my mother the name of one living relative in France. Also, she told me of places where she and my father lived in Paris and some of their favorite cafes, parks, galleries, theaters, things like that. So I know enough to start to find where I came from.

How long do you think you’ll be there? I held my breath, hoping she’d say a month or two.

"I’ve taken a leave of absence from my college for a year. I plan to