Dads Bowling Night With Mom

March, 1952

"I'm off!" announced Dad as he headed toward the door. He didn't bother to say where, as it was Tuesday, and Tuesday was his bowling night.

"Good luck, Honey!" Mom called after him.

Mom and I were at the dinner table, eating our dinner. Mom was a slower eater, and I was keeping her company by matching her pace. On Bowling Nights, Dad always wolfed down his food so he could get to the bowling alley on time.

Mom asked, "Jack, what are you and Doris doing tonight?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Mom asked as she arched an eyebrow.

Mom was always gently probing about my relationship with Doris. Doris had been my first serious girlfriend. We had started dating at the beginning of this year, my senior year. With my prior girlfriend Anna, we had been friends that held hands and kissed goodbye. Doris was the first girl I had taken parking. I felt she considered Doris a threat to her plan for me to go to Northwestern and to eventually become a doctor. Many a guy from my small-town high school who might have left town after graduating had instead married his sweetheart and gotten a job at the plant where my dad worked. In most of those cases, she had their first child well before they were married nine months.

I said as casually as I could, "She broke up with me yesterday."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know." Mom gave me a slightly embarrassed look. "Why did she break up with you?"

"I don't want to discuss it."

"Well, you could go over to a friend's house instead."

"I don't feel like going over to a friend's house."

I stood up and took my dishes over to the sink. I heard Mom doing the same behind me. I took my plate and scraped the food remains into the trash. I set my plate down and stepped aside to let Mom do the same.

Mom said, "Well, if you're staying home tonight, would you please wash the dishes?"

"No."

"Come on. You know how much I hate washing the dishes. It makes my fingers look like prunes."

I knew I'd wind up washing the dishes. Mom truly hated washing the dishes, and I didn't mind doing it. But I was in a bad mood and wouldn't readily agree to wash them.

"When we negotiated my allowance, we agreed that I'd wash the dishes on every night except Tuesday." Tuesday and Friday were the two nights I had been allowed to go out on dates with Doris, and I had to pick her up early on Tuesday to get her home on time for a school night.

"But you aren't going out tonight. And I don't want to get my sweater wet."

Mom was wearing a light pink sweater and a long black skirt. Pretty typical for what she wore around the house. She asked in a slightly exasperated tone, "Are you saying you want a bigger allowance?" She was used to me doing whatever she asked.

I folded my arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. Mom could order me to wash the dishes, and I'd do it. But she was wanting me to agree to washing the dishes, and I was in the mood to make her work for it.

"No. I don't need a bigger allowance if I'm not dating Doris anymore."

"Take over washing dishes on Tuesdays, I'll increase your allowance, and you'll have more money when you start dating some other girl."

"I doubt I'll be dating any other girls here. At least not for the rest of the school year."

A concerned look came to Mom's face. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't want to discuss it." I moved away from the counter. "Have fun washing the dishes."

"Don't go!" said Mom. "How about this? You wash, and I'll dry. And I'll do something nice for you later."

This was a much better offer than what I was expecting. "Nice? Like what?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something. But let's do the dishes now. My radio show will come on soon."

"Oh, okay," I said, putting as much resignation and disgust as I could into my words. Actually, I was fine with doing the dishes, but I wasn't letting Mom know that.

I turned on the water to let it get warm. Mom went to the table to clear the rest of the dishes. I organized the dishes in the order I would wash them - glasses first, then silverware, then plates, and then finally the pots and pans Mom had cooked dinner in.

Once the water was warm, I started filling the left side of the sink. I also squirted some dish soap into the water. As it was filling Mom asked, "Why did Doris break up with you?"

"I don't want to discuss it."

"I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you a secret, and then you tell me why she broke up with you."

I looked at Mom with some disbelief. She had never proposed anything like this before. I guessed she was really curious about Doris and me and had realized she wasn't going to get anything out of me about her.

"Okay."

"I've asked your father to buy us a TV. As I'm frequently home alone, I'd really like one. We had quite the argument about it last Saturday."

I wasn't surprised that Mom had asked Dad to buy a TV. She had watched one a few times at other people's homes in our small town in Ohio and talked a lot about how much she had enjoyed it. The news was that Mom and Dad had had 'quite the argument'. I had never seen my parents argue. They always went into their bedroom and closed the door if they 'needed to discuss something'. The way Mom had said that, she made it sound like a big argument.

"Why not a washing machine?"

"Laundry isn't that bad. And ironing would be much better if I had a TV to watch." Mom waited to see if I had any more questions, and then said, "So tell me about you and Doris."

I didn't answer right away. When the left side of the sink was full, I turned the faucet to the right side. The left side was for washing and the right side was for rinsing. I took a glass and started washing it. "I don't really know why Doris broke up with me. She didn't give me a reason. Tuesday morning, she was waiting for me to arrive at school. I walked her to her class, and when we got there, she told me she was breaking up with me and didn't want to see me again. And then she went into her class. I tried to talk to her at lunch, but she told me she didn't want to see me again and shooed me away."

I put the washed glass into the rinse water and started washing another. Mom dried the glass I had washed.

"Did you have any idea that the breakup was coming?"

I washed the rest of the glasses and then said, "Yes. Do you remember a month ago when you went to the Johnstons on a Friday night?" The Johnstons were an elderly couple at our church that lived outside of town. Mrs. Johnston had been in bed with a fever for a couple of days, so Mom had taken her car to go out to visit her for the evening.

"I do."

"Well, because you had taken your car, I couldn't drive Doris to the basketball game. It was an away game, so we took the school bus instead. She was really upset about having to take the bus. I got the feeling she felt I had humiliated her by forcing her to take the bus instead of driving her to the game. Things have gotten steadily worse between Doris and me since then. She never said what was wrong, but she wasn't enjoying being my girlfriend like she used to. So it wasn't a big surprise that she dumped me."

I had an ulterior motive for telling Mom all this. I wanted a car of my own. But to have a car of my own, I'd have to have a job, and Mom didn't want me to have a job. She felt that there wasn't enough time for me to have a job if I was studying hard enough to get into Northwestern and to make it into med school. So she had promised to always lend me her car on Tuesday and Friday nights. She had broken her promise, and that led to my breakup with Doris.

I didn't really care about going to Northwestern or going to med school. I was fine with going to Ohio State and getting a decent job once I graduated. But my cousin George had gone to Ohio State, and I had to do better than what Aunt Agnes' kids did. Aunt Agnes was Mom's older sister, and they had a deep mutual animosity for some unknown reason. Maybe it had to do with Aunt Agnes dating Dad before he dated Mom. On the surface, they got along, but down deep they seemed to hate each other. At family gatherings, Aunt Agnes always brought up that George had gone to Ohio State and her daughter Joan was going to a small, private girls' college. So Mom wanted me to go to a better college than Ohio State. Aunt Agnes also always brought up that George was a chemist in a munitions factory, so Mom wanted me to have a better job than that.

Mom said, "Taking the bus on one basketball game shouldn't have been a big deal."

"You're right, Mom," I said in a slightly patronizing tone.

"She knew you didn't have a car when she started dating you and were borrowing mine."

"She told me several times I should get my own car. And I always told her I didn't have the money to buy one."

"Even if you had a car of your own, it could have been in the shop that Friday night."

"Very true, Mom."

We washed dishes quietly for a while, then Mom said, "You're not blaming me for Doris breaking up with you."

"I didn't say that, Mom. She's talked a lot about me to people at school, and in what has gotten back to me, she hasn't mentioned the car. I'm just saying things went south with her after I didn't drive her to that basketball game."

"What has she said about you?"

"I don't want to discuss it, Mom."

We were quiet for a while after that. While I was scrubbing on a pot, Mom asked, "Do you want to listen to my radio show with me?"

Mom always listened to a radio crime drama on Tuesday nights. She spent a lot of Wednesday afternoon on the phone talking with her friends about it. "Might as well. It's not like I have anything else to do."

* * * *

The next afternoon, I was studying at the dining table when the phone rang. We had a formal dining room with a large table that was used when guests were over. The rest of the time, it was only used by me for studying. When it was just Mom, Dad, and me, we ate on a small table off of the kitchen. Our only phone was in the kitchen, and it wasn't visible from the dining room, but I could hear perfectly well what Mom said on the phone. I had gotten into the habit of eavesdropping on Mom. Most of the time it was harmless, like talking about her radio show. Other times, I caught hints of more interesting news. I always acted like I never heard Mom's phone calls. I never asked who was on the phone. It was like a mystery novel, where I had to piece together clues to figure out who called and what was discussed. It made church far more interesting, as people interacting there provided most of the clues to unravel Mom's more mysterious phone calls.

I quickly figured out this caller was Mrs. Grant. Her husband had moved away, they had met and married, and then they had moved back after Mr. Grant's father had died to help take care of Mr. Grant's mother. She was about ten years older than Mom and was not a regular caller.

I perked up when Mom said, "Go ahead and tell me if you think it's important for me to know." I set down my pencil and listened more intently.

"It's not surprising you saw him there. He bowls every Tuesday." So this was about Dad. Something Mrs. Grant thought was important for Mom to know.

Mrs. Grant went on for quite a bit before I heard Mom sigh loudly. "I wish I could say that I don't believe you, Mary, but other people have told me similar stories." A few moments later, Mom continued, "Frank is a good husband. He just drinks too much when he bowls, and then he does some stupid things. He wouldn't do anything like that normally. I feel sorry for the poor girl he bothered."

What had Dad done?

I wondered. Apparently, it was something he had done many times while bowling, but not anywhere else. Certainly not at church. Watching him at church wouldn't give me any clues as to what he had done.

"Patty Harney? Oh, my." Patty Harney was a senior like me. She worked as a waitress at the bowling alley a few nights a week.

"I'll talk to Frank about it. I'm sorry you had to see that. Thanks for letting me know. And, please, don't tell anyone else."

I picked up my pencil and went back to working on answering the questions on the History handout. Mom came out of the kitchen. I could feel her look at me, but I acted totally absorbed in my studies. She then asked, "Are you ready for me to review your History handout?"

"No, Mom. I have a few more questions to go."

* * * *

The rest of Wednesday was normal. I studied until almost dinner time and then Mom reviewed the answers on my handouts after I had done them to make sure they were correct and complete. Mom had been a teacher's assistant after she graduated from high school until she married Dad. I felt like she knew more about all of my classes than my teachers did. She always reviewed everything I did before I turned them in, and if it was acceptable to Mom, it was a certain A. For dinner, we went to the potluck supper at church. I kept an eye on Dad for clues as to what he had done yesterday while bowling, but he acted normal and everyone who talked to him acted normal.

Thursday was normal. After dinner, Dad and I worked on converting my brother Bob's old bedroom into a crafting room for Mom. Bob was 21, worked at the plant but in a different part from my dad, and was renting a room from the Coopers. Mom wanted better lighting in the room, so we put an overhead light in the room. Dad and I always worked on home projects on Thursday night unless I had a major school project to work on. Friday night, Dad didn't come home until late as usual as he always went to a bar after work on Fridays and drank beers with his coworkers. I read "The Count of Monte Cristo". Mom wanted me to read "classics" in my spare time in preparation for Northwestern, and "The Count of Monte Cristo" had been one of the few books on her list of classics that appealed to me. Saturday night, as usual, Mom and Dad went out to a party while I spent the night at Mom's parents' house. Sunday morning was church. Sunday night, my brother Bob and his girlfriend Betty came over for dinner. He was seriously dating Betty, and my parents expected them to get engaged soon. Monday night, Dad played poker after dinner and I studied.

Then we were back to Tuesday. After dinner, Mom asked, "Would you wash the dishes for me, please?"

"No. Why should I? You did nothing nice for me this week."

I hadn't really expected her to do something nice for me. For most kids, their mom could bake them a cake or some cookies, but that wouldn't have worked for me as I didn't have a sweet tooth. When I had my eighteenth birthday in mid-January, everyone else had a slice of my birthday cake while I ate ice cream. Mom already did so much for me that it would be hard to do something more that didn't involve spending money, and spending money would require Dad's approval.

"I bought you your favorite flavor of ice cream."

"You always buy me ice cream."

"I lent you my car Saturday."

"To run errands for you." Though I had enjoyed driving it around town.

"Do the dishes, and I'll do something doubly-nice for you."

"Okay."

I knew I'd wind up washing the dishes and didn't feel like fighting it anymore.

As I started on the glasses, Mom asked, "What has Doris been saying about you?"

"I don't want to discuss it."

"I'll hear about it eventually. I'd like to be prepared for when I do so."

"Then you'll hear about it then."

I washed dishes for another minute and then Mom said, "It sounded like she was saying some bad things about you, and those things have really hurt your feelings. As your mother, I want to know what is hurting my son so much."

I felt like Mom wouldn't give this up. I decided to try to block her a different way. "Tell me first what Mrs. Grant had to say about Dad on Wednesday."

"You were eavesdropping?"

"I try not to," I lied, "but the way you talked to her grabbed my ear."

I expected Mom to tell me it was none of my business and then we'd be at an impasse that I was perfectly fine with.

To my surprise, Mom said, "Okay. I'll tell you what she told me, and then you'll tell me everything Doris has been saying about you." Before I could agree or disagree, Mom said, "Mrs. Grant had gone to the bowling alley to see what it was like. Mr. Grant had recently joined a bowling league, she was in the area shopping, and she decided to drop in and see what it was like. While she was there, she saw your father squeeze the bottom of Patty Harney. She had brought him and the other members of his team a round of beers, and he had put his right hand on her bottom while paying her with his left." Mom let out a long sigh.

"And this isn't the first time he's done this."

"No. My guess is he probably does this every week. From what I've been told, he always gives the waitress a big tip at the end of the night." Mom started crying. "The first time I was told about it, I confronted your father. He denied it. What could I do after that? All of the guys he bowls with every week seem fine with it. I feel sorry for the waitresses he gropes, but there's nothing I can do to stop him. He controls the money in the house. I can't keep him from bowling, I can't keep him from buying beer when he bowls, and I can't stop him from taking advantage of young waitresses."

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said as I moved to hug her. I couldn't give her a decent hug because my hands were coated with soapy water, but I did my best.

"Your dad says we don't have enough money to buy me a TV. But we have enough money for him to spend a lot on beer on Tuesday and Friday nights. It's just not fair."

I continued holding Mom until she pulled away. She used the drying towel to wipe away her tears. She said, "Get back to washing dishes." I did.

After I washed a few, I said, "Doris has been saying two things about me. Well, she may be saying more, but I've heard about two things. The first is that I'm a lousy kisser."

When I didn't say more, Mom asked, "Is that true?"

"I don't know. Doris never complained about how I kissed her when we were dating. I didn't kiss Anna very much. Our kisses were like quick pecks."

I continued washing dishes. Mom eventually asked, "And the second thing?"

"It's really embarrassing, Mom."

"Then it's very important you tell me."

I had sort of agreed to this deal. "The other thing she's told people is that I'm a fairy. She tells them I never made a move on her in all the time we were dating, so I must be interested in guys instead of girls."

"Oh my!" said Mom.

I felt my face was warm with embarrassment. I was glad I could keep my head down while washing dishes instead of seeing my mom's reaction.

"Is that true?" asked Mom gingerly.

"What? No! Neither thing is true. But I've never been a tough guy. I've always been a quiet, studious person. And now all the kids at school are calling me a fairy."

"I'm sure it's not all the kids at school."

"Okay, it's not all the kids. But it's the kids who are jealous of my high grades, and there are a lot of them. The guys who are planning on working at the plant as soon as they graduate. They've always made a little fun of me, and now they are making a lot of fun of me."

"And this is why you think no girl will date you."

"Right! Who would want to date the school fairy? And who's a bad kisser to boot."

I was trembling with anger. "I have no idea why Doris has it out for me. I tried to be the best boyfriend I could be. I spent lots of money on her. I took to her to whatever she wanted to go to. And then she breaks up with me and starts stabbing me in the back." I had to let go of the dish I was cleaning for fear I'd break it.

Mom and I stood there quietly for a while until I regained my composure. Then I resumed washing the dishes. When I was scrubbing the last pan, Mom asked, "How far did you and Doris go?"

"Far?"

"As in making out? Did you touch her? If so, where?"