Right there, in the middle of my room, I did a little happy, hopping dance since no one was there to see me and I felt, in that moment, so perfectly, burstingly happy that I needed to expend that feeling. This wave of sublime bliss washed over me, and I was buoyed like I was full of golden light.
Then Jake was in my doorway.
“Jake!” I wasn’t dancing anymore, but the only times he’d ever been in my room were when he snuck over at night or while Mom was teaching and Thorsten was at work.
“Mom told me to come and tell you I was here. She was in the garage getting out a big, big suitcase.” He leaned against my doorframe, his hands in his pockets and a huge grin on his face.
“Did you help her?” My mother was fiercely independent, to the point where she’d rather fall off of a ladder backwards than ask for a hand.
He rolled his eyes. “No. I love to see crazy moms fall down attic stairs with their arms full of luggage.” He strode into my very feminine room and filled it up with his big, beautiful guyish being. He picked me up and swung me around, and it felt as good as I always imagined it would. “After I helped her get everything down, I came to check on you. I kind of hoped you would still be in your towel.”
I popped a hard kiss on his mouth. “When did you become such a pervert?”
“I guess you’re rubbing off on me. I made you something.” He pulled a jewel case out of his jacket pocket. It was a new, thick, warm Carhart jacket. Mom and Thorsten had picked it up for his birthday along with new gloves and a hat. I thought he would be offended, but Thorsten got all puffed up about how “working men need working clothes,” and Jake accepted them happily. I loved Thorsten so much sometimes.
“Did you make me a mix?” I hopped from foot to foot again. What can I say? Jake Kelly awakened my inner dancer.
“Yea.” He put his hands on my hips and held tight. “No screaming, and just enough whiny boys to keep you happy.”
“Thank you, Jake.” I kissed him. “I’ll listen to it on the way to Paris.” I noticed the new watch I bought him. “Let me see that.” I pointed.
He gave me the watch, and I spun the knobs expertly. I loved the tiny mechanisms on watches, and I loved the rapid spin of the hands around the face when you changed the time.
“Um, you’re like six hours off.” Jake glanced at the watch face.
“Paris is six hours off,” I clarified. “Six hours later than we are.”
“Oh.” He looked at it again. “It’s weird that we’ll be in totally different time zones. Like, you’ll be right in the middle of your day when I’m waking up.”
It sounded very melancholy, whether Jake meant it that way or not. “It’s not for a long time.”
“I was just making a time-based observation.” He took the watch out of my hand and wrapped it around his wrist. “I want you to do this. You need to get some more traveling under your belt so you’ll be ready for Italy. I’m not going to be any help.”
I loved that he took the idea of Italy so seriously. “Okay. Maybe we should take Italian next year.” Jake had discussed doing Share Time, meaning he’d go half the day to the academic high school and half the day to technical school, like I did. He was currently enrolled full time in the tech school we both went to, but it wasn’t very academically challenging.
“Ooh la la.” He nuzzled my neck.
I laughed. “That’s French, Jake.”
“I’m trying.” He grinned.
I ran my hands over him, along his wide back and up his neck and through his surprisingly silky hair. I felt his soft cheek, newly shaved and nicked right at the jaw, and pulled on his ear lobes. He licked at my mouth, and I melted into him willingly. This was heaven.
Jake pulled away suddenly. “Sorry, babe,” he said shakily. “Much more, and your parents will have good reason to shoot me. You want to head out?”
So we said our goodbyes and got into his big blue truck, and it was just me and Jake driving all over Sussex County. I felt a crushing sadness that this was the end of our winter break together instead of the beginning, but I tried to push all of those thoughts aside.
“I think there’re a few things you need to do before you leave American soil.” Jake busted me out of my sad thinking. We pulled into the Hampton Diner. “You need to eat at a good, greasy diner.”
“Mmm. Perfect.” I loved this diner. It was the place where Jake and I celebrated our newly-minted relationship with apple pie a la mode the day he asked me to be his girlfriend.
Not only did Jake order way too much delicious food, he stopped the waitress from getting too oogly over him by asking her to take our picture in front of said delicious food.
“What’s the picture for?” I turned the camera so I could see our smiling faces over the whipped-cream covered desserts we were working through.
“Your photo project.” He lifted a forkful of lemon meringue pie to my lips, and I took a bite. “I’ve decided to do Sussex County before and after Brenna Blixen. So there will be life with you, then life without you.”
“Sounds awesome.” I scooped a forkful of cheesecake with strawberries and whipped cream and offered Jake a bite. “Any layout ideas?”
“Before will be really dynamic, full color, and beautiful.” He dipped into the chocolate crиme pie and held it out to me. “After will be a flat format in black and white, washed out, sad. What do you think?”
“I think you’re kind of adorable.” I sipped his Coke instead of my own milkshake just because I wanted to drink out of his cup and not because I was at all thirsty for soda.
“I think you’re kind of gorgeous.” Suddenly his gray eyes raked over me, hot and hungry. He took my hand and rubbed his thumb over the bump of my ring, then pulled me across the table and kissed me. “Food won’t be as delicious without you,” he said solemnly.
I held up a fork loaded with flaky apple pie. “Maybe some food will lose its taste. Not this food. Never.”
Jake shrugged. “Maybe my taste buds will just go dead without you.”
“I hope not!” I put a hand to my heart.
“Don’t worry about me…” he began.
“I’m not worried about you,” I interrupted. “If your taste buds die from longing, mine will be obligated to die, too. And what fun will Paris be if I can’t taste all the delicious food?”
“You’re a caring girl, Bren.” He scooped a dab of whipped cream on his finger and swiped it onto my nose. “Alright. I’ll let half of my taste buds go dead.”
“Like flying a flag at half mast?” I stuck my tongue out and attempted to lick the whipped cream off my nose.
“That’s right. But I’ll taste all the good stuff, in your honor.”
“Consider me honored.” I gave up on getting the whipped cream off on my tongue, swiped at my nose with a napkin, and Jake laughed. It was a good, deep sound and it made me feel warm and happy.
Jake and I went to both of our schools and snapped obligatory pictures while I complained. “Being near school the day after Christmas seems so wrong!” I wrapped my arms around my chest as the wind whistled hard and cold.
“Shut up and pose!” he called from behind the camera lens.
I struck a studious pose. We went to the overlook where we had skipped school, the bar where Folly had its first concert, the movie theater where we’d had our first real date, the Chinese restaurant where we’d shared our first meal. Jake made me stand and sit and smile and frown until he had enough pictures to wallpaper his room.
“Okay,” he said, finally. “Just one more place that will miss you.”