Chapter 11

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1991

Whatever noise Mom, Dad and Josh had made getting ready for church simply wasn’t enough to wake me from a dead slumber.

I woke up with a smile on my dry mouth and a slight headache throbbing in my temples.

Sundays are mine. I think I’ve mentioned that before. But I still had stuff to do. It was nearly 10 a.m. and Jen was coming over for Sunday dinner. That’s lunch for those of you who didn’t grow up on a farm.

The savory smell of a simmering pot roast in a bubbling crock pot wafted around the house. I yawned, stretched, scratched and then hustled to the shower. I might skip a shower on a regular Sunday morning, but not today.

I let hot water work it’s magic on my sore muscles.

I put on jeans and a ratty old T-shirt that I’d change out of after getting down to work. First item of business was to tidy up my room. I generally kept a pretty clean bedroom, but teenage boy-level cleanliness is not the same as teenage girl-level cleanliness. I picked up a few things and ran the vacuum before a little light dusting.

The rest of the house was also generally fairly tidy, but I still went around the house putting a few items away and straightening things out.

At 11, I put a big pot of water on the stove, found a couple of pounds of potatoes and started peeling them. Just a few minutes later, the family came home, with Josh excitedly ripping through the house in his Sunday finest.

Mom was impressed with my work so far, but took over.

“Are you going to change before Jen gets here?” she asked, leveling an accusing gaze at my old T-shirt.

“What? This not good enough?” I teased. “Just kidding. I didn’t want to get a nicer shirt dirty.”

“I’ve got it now, go get some corn out of the freezer and change.” she admonished me, shaking some salt into the pot.

I bolted downstairs and grabbed a quart of our frozen sweetcorn. Mom thanked me as I headed into the bedroom to change.

I rifled through shirts hanging in my closet. I didn’t want anything too heavy, or I would likely start to sweat, but a T-shirt wasn’t going to be quite right. I briefly wondered if Jen would want to shoot hoops, but hoped she wouldn’t. I hardly ever put any thought into what I was wearing, particularly on a Sunday, but today was different.

I slid hanger after hanger to the left, skipping over sweaters and sweatshirts before I finally stopped on a light blue button-up shirt. I whipped my T-shirt off and decided to try it on. I threw my arms into the long sleeves and started buttoning it up, looking into my mirror. I was about to unbutton my pants and tuck the shirt in, before reconsidering how it looked untucked.

I looked pretty good, I decided, but something brought me back in front of the closet, considering other options again.

“Jake, looks like Jen’s here!” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Shit!” I swore from my bedroom. She was early.

“Language, Jake!” Mom admonished with a laugh.

“Sorry, be right there!”

It was too late to change now. I sighed, trying to relax myself, wondering why I was so nervous. I grinned then, imagining Jen felt the same nervousness before I visited her Saturday.

With that in mind, I slipped out of my room and saw through the family room window that Jen had made the turn from the long driveway to the approach to the house.

She parked out front and shut the Bronco down. I could see her relax her shoulders and take a deep breath to calm herself. A wry grin spread over my face and I knew she was just as nervous as I was.

I slipped into my high tops and tied them quickly as Jen stepped down from the Bronco and patted old George on the head. He wagged his tail happily at her as I stepped into the garage and came out to greet her.

“You’re early,” I said, looking into her blue-green eyes as I got closer to her. She was wearing acid washed jeans, with the cuffs rolled over sneakers and a cream-colored long-sleeved V-neck sweater. She let her long hair flow freely and it looked like she’d applied just a hint of makeup.

“Sorry, I wasn’t totally sure how long it would take to get here. I thought I might get lost,” she admitted, blushing a little.

“I’m glad you found your way,” I said, kneeling to give George a good scratch behind the ears.

“What’s for lunch?” she asked.

“Dinner,” I corrected her.

“Am I that early?” she asked in confusion.

“No, dinner is at noon. Supper is at night.”

“OK, then when’s lunch?” she asked with a gotcha-grin.

“At three, served in the field,” I said matter-of-factly.

“You guys are weird,” Jen giggled.

“I’m just messing with you, mostly,” I added. “Grandma Parker insists it’s that way. It’s a farm thing, I guess.”

“I’ve never seen you wear that shirt before,” Jen added, looking me over. “I like it.”

“Thanks,” I blushed a little. “I usually just wear T-shirts to school.”

“Getting colder now,” she nodded.

“I guess I’ll have to wear it if you like it.”

“Brings out your eyes,” she said softly, getting into my personal space.

I gave a nervous sideways glance at the house.

“Mom and Dad are probably staring out the window right now.”

“Oh, did you think I was going to kiss you?” she asked airily, then giggled, her blue-green eyes flashing mirthfully.

I chewed the inside of my cheek and rolled my eyes.

“Just letting you know,” I groaned.

Jen giggled cutely again, then bent down to join me in giving George a good scratching. His tail was going nuts over all the attention.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re having?” she asked again.

“Oh, pot roast, mashed spuds and corn,” I shrugged.

“Sounds amazing,” she enthused. “I skipped breakfast, so I’m kinda hungry.”

“Then let’s quit wasting time out here.”

“Smells incredible in here,” Jen gushed as we went inside, took off our shoes and washed up from petting George.

Mom and Dad greeted Jen and I gave her the nickel tour of the house. Words must have been spoken to Josh, because he was polite to Jen and didn’t tease me over her presence. Maybe he was just a little spellbound by the pretty blond. I certainly would have been at his age.

She thoughtfully pitched in and helped me set the big harvest table for five, and Mom started bringing out a steaming platter of roast and bowls of corn and mashed potatoes. She had just put the finishing touches on beef gravy. Dad brought that out with some dinner rolls.

We passed the food around family-style, and Jen’s eyes were agog as she loaded up a plate.

We weren’t the type of family to have a prayer before a meal, so we avoided that particular awkwardness. A few bites into the food, Jen was raving.

“This is all amazing, but what’s different about this corn?” she asked Mom.

“We grow it here. It’s just corn-on-the-cob we cut off and freeze every August,” Mom smiled.

“It’s the best corn I’ve ever had,” she said before savoring another forkful.

“Well, it’s Dad who grows it,” I nodded.

“And I spend a whole day freezing it,” Mom chided me.

“I help,” I reminded her indignantly.

“It’s a group effort,” Dad added, diffusing the good-natured quarrel.

Mom and Dad helped keep the awkwardness at bay. Mom was a natural conversationalist and asked Jen good questions to keep the table conversation going. Jen and I had second helpings, and she really put away an impressive amount of home cooking.

“That’s one of the best meals I’ve had in awhile,” Jen rubbed her tummy.

“Your Mom’s meatloaf was pretty good last night,” I countered.

“Yeah, but I’m used to it,” she grinned.

“Well thank you, Jennifer. You’re welcome to eat here any time,” Mom said warmly.

Jen grinned at me, and I had hoped that this might get to be a habit.

Jen paced around my room, looking over my posters; Ryne Sandberg, Walter Payton, the Super Bowl Shuffle poster, the Black and Blues Brothers poster. She lightly rubbed a baseball trophy and gave my globe bank a bit of a spin.

I just grinned, watching her scrutinize my belongings like she was trying to learn more about me.

“Find what you’re looking for?” I teased with a lopsided smile.

Jen paused and looked at me, tilting her head.

“I hope so,” she said, maybe more to herself.

We put our shoes back on and went exploring the farm, hand-in-hand. She’d had that tour at the Labor Day party just 20 days earlier. The calves were all gone, but there were still kittens capering around the big barn.

We sat on straw bales and we each let kittens pile up in our laps, cuddling and purring while we pet them.

“I love kittens,” she cooed, scratching the chin of a very cuddly calico.

“You could take her home,” I offered.

“Oh, no,” she shook her head. “Dad would kill me. Wait, how do you know it’s a SHE?”

“Uh, well, you can look under her tail, or trust that are almost no male calico cats.”

“Really?” she asked, picking up the black, orange and white kitten and turning her around for an inspection.”

“Looks like a girl,” she confirmed, then cuddled her close to her chest.

“Told ya,” I grinned.

Two ginger kittens had fallen asleep in my lap and their mom had curled her way around me a few times, begging for attention.

“They seem to like you,” Jen nodded, indicating the affectionate cats.

“They like Dad best,” I shrugged. “He feeds them every day and makes sure the kittens aren’t too feral. Sometimes they follow him around the farm like he’s the Pied Piper,” I laughed.

“So, I got a call last night,” Jen said, changing the subject.

I set my teeth together and gave her an inquisitive look.

“Autumn was at Lea’s and they called,” she clarified.

“Yeah?”

“They just wanted to know for sure what was up.”

“And, what’s up?” I asked.

Jen blushed at me, her eyes sparkling.

“That we’re, you know?”

“I don’t know,” I grinned, taking a little pleasure in her discomfort. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Ugh, that we’re together!” she punched my bicep lightly.

“And that wasn’t clear at the dance?” I laughed.

“Well, they wanted the whole scoop,” she grinned.

“And what exactly did you tell them?”

“Everything!” she enthused with a guilty grin.

“Everything?” I asked skeptically.

“Everything!” she nodded with a laugh.

“That’s just not fair,” I said in mock annoyance. “I never kiss and tell.”

“I told them about more than the kissing,” she giggled.

I placed a hand over my chest in mock surprise. “Scandalous!” I teased.

Jen laughed hard enough to disturb her kitten, then held her tight to soothe her.

“And how did they react?” I asked.

“Ecstatic,” she nodded. “But more like, ‘finally!’”

“I know, the boys were the same way,” I agreed.

“The boys,” she cocked an eyebrow. “And what did you tell them?”

“That we’re together,” I said cooly.

“That’s it?” she tilted her head.

“That’s it,” I shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Wait, who are ‘the boys?’” she asked with finger quotes.

“Mikey, Beast, Tree,” I counted off on my fingers.

“Oh, that reminds me,” she rolled her eyes. “Lea is not entirely happy with you.”

“That so?”

“Yeah, she’s mad that you brought Central girls to the dance.”

“I only brought one,” I clarified.

“Yeah, but you set the boys up,” she tisked.

“Yeah? I did a pretty good job,” I said with no lack of pride.

“Lea’s pissed at you.”

“And why?”

“Well,” Jen paused, thinking it over. “Promise not to tell him?”

“Promise not to tell who what?”

“Trent,” she said, using Tree’s given name.

“Tell him what?” I asked in confusion.

“Lea has a crush on him.”

Realization spread over my face.

“Ah,” I said in surprise, then got a little irritated. “Then she should ask him out.”

“Noooo,” Jen shook her head. “She’s too chicken.”

“Then how does she expect something to happen?”

“I dunno,” Jen shrugged. “No one wants to get rejected.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know anything about that,” I said sarcastically.

“Sorry,” Jen said with a guilty look.

“It worked out in the end,” I shrugged.

“Your patience paid off,” she smiled.

That wasn’t entirely true, I knew and after a quiet moment, I knew it was time to come clean with something.

I straightened my posture and looked Jen in the eyes.

“I have to tell you something about that.”

My tone must have been enough to set Jen on edge and she nodded nervously.

“On Thursday, I kinda thought that was it. I thought we were never going to get together.”

Jen looked a little sad, but let me continue.

“I did something Thursday night that I’m not proud of.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “I would have been upset if I were in your shoes Thursday night.”

“No, not that,” I looked away. “There’s something else.”

“What?” she said, preparing herself for the worst.

I sighed and started to tell her what happened.

“Like I said, I thought there was no chance. Anyway, I was talking to Autumn and she had looked pretty good all week and I just, uh, I asked her if she wanted to be with me.”

Jen was processing what I was saying, then looked a little confused.

“Wait, Autumn was there with me after Lea kicked everyone out. How is that possible?”

I sighed and looked at her again. “It wasn’t after all that happened. It was before.”

She looked a little shocked and looked at me accusingly. “And what happened?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. “It was when we showed up at Lea’s. I didn’t really want to go inside anyway.”

“And nothing happened?”

“No, she didn’t want any part of it,” I said with regret. “But something did happen.”

“What?” she asked in horror.

“She gave me those pictures of you. Of us.”

“Oh! I still have them,” she realized. “Autumn told me she gave them to you and it helped you realize you still wanted to give me another chance.”

“It’s true,” I nodded. “I told her to give me one good reason and she gave me that stack of photos. I’m sorry I threw them at you.”

“It’s okay,” she sighed.

“I just wanted you to know the whole story.”

Jen looked down, absently petting the kitten.

“Do I have to worry about you two?”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I only want you.”

She bit her lower lip and looked at me squarely. “You wanted her Thursday?”

“I thought we were over Thursday.”

Jen looked down at the kitten snuggling into her again. “She’s my friend and you’re my friend, and my boyfriend. If you cheated on me with her, I wouldn’t have much left.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I shook my head.

“How do I know that?” she asked softly. “And why didn’t she tell me?”

“I apologized to her Friday and she thought I should be the one to tell you.”

Jen pet the kitten thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you love her?”

I knew the truthful answer wasn’t what Jen wanted to hear.

“Jen, I love Autumn, but it’s not like what you’re thinking.”

“And what am I thinking?” Jen asked bitterly, looking at me again.

“I don’t know, I guess,” I admitted. “But it’s not that kind of love. I love her like I love Shelby.”

“So you love Shelby and Autumn?”

“It’s not like that,” I said, my fingers on my temples.

Jen had an intense look I couldn’t quite read. “Then what’s it like?”

“This would be easier to explain if you had a brother or sister,” I said in exasperation. “I love Autumn and Shelby like I love family.

“You were with Autumn half the summer?”

“I know, I know,” I said in frustration. “We were, but we didn’t even l go out on dates,” I admitted. “It’s hard to explain, but it wasn’t really a romance. Does that make sense?”

“Jake, you had sex with her. That’s pretty romantic.”

“Okay, yes, it is, but it’s not like that.”

“Tell me what it’s like then,” Jen demanded.

“Look, I love Autumn and Shelby but I’m not IN LOVE with them, does that make sense?”

“Not really,” she said in frustration.

I sighed in frustration. Our animated discussion had disturbed the two ginger kittens napping in my lap.

“Jen, I decided something when Mel died,” I said softly. “Life can be short, and I wanted the people important to me to know how I felt about them.”

Jen looked thoughtful at my explanation.

“Okay,” she said quietly again. “But how do I know I can trust you?”

I don’t know how I expected the conversation to go, but I was starting to really dread where it was headed.

“Jen, I don’t know what to tell you other than I’m sorry. But I didn’t have to tell you about this. Autumn and I could have just kept it from you. I didn’t think it was right. I wouldn’t want to keep that from you. I just didn’t want us to start out on a lie. I just hope that doing the right thing isn’t ruining my chance with you.”

Jen looked at me again, then looked down at her kitten.

“It’s not,” Jen shook her head. “I guess I thought I had really screwed up and ruined my chance with you,” she said, her eyes wet. “Now I don’t feel quite as bad.”

“Is that good?”

“I don’t know,” she said after a pause. “I know I should feel better about this. I know I should be happy that you told me the truth, but inside I feel like I should be scared.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I can’t help how I feel,” she shrugged.

I knew exactly what she meant by that statement, but not necessarily how she felt.

“How DO you feel?”

Jen gave me a bit of a deer in the headlights look. “About you?”

“About me.”

Jen looked very uncomfortable on the straw bale, trying to shrink away from my gaze and my question. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, then inhaled and gave out a heavy sigh.

“Jake, you’re like the high dive.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her and let her continue.

“When I was 10, my friends were all daring each other to jump off the high dive at the pool. I wasn’t the strongest swimmer. I was terrified, but I wanted so badly to do it. Finally, after all of my friends did it, and none of them died,” she giggled. “I decided to try. Anyway, I remember climbing up every step. There were people climbing up behind me, so I couldn’t chicken out. My legs were shaking as I walked out on the diving board. I remember having my toes curled around the edge of the board like, gripping it. When I looked down, the water was a LONG way down there. I don’t know how long I stood there shaking before I finally plugged my nose, closed my eyes and just jumped.”

“And you lived,” I grinned.

“I lived,” she nodded. “I hit the water hard, but I opened my eyes under the water, floated up and caught my breath. Jake, it was the most thrilling thing in the world. I spent the rest of the summer diving off that thing all day. I was so upset at myself for not doing it sooner.”

“So you’re with me because of peer pressure?” I asked in confusion.

“No, weirdo,” she snorted. “I was scared to death of you.”

“I’m not scary,” I argued.

“No, you’re not scary,” she agreed. “The idea of being your girlfriend was scary.”

“But not now?”

“No, not as much,” she admitted.

“Well jump on in, the water’s fine,” I grinned.

“Jake,” she said softly.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t jump in head first that first time,” she admonished me.

“I get it,” I shrugged.

“Feet first,” she smiled.

I nodded, feeling a great weight shift from my shoulders. The conversation didn’t seem to cost me our relationship.

“And Jake?” she asked coyly. “Am I important to you?”

“Well, yeah,” I admitted.

“Then shouldn’t you tell me how you feel about me?” she challenged me in a breathy tone.

Now it was my turn to be caught in the headlights. Now I was squirming on the straw bale.

I leaned forward, taking care not to disturb the kittens too much, took her hands in mine and looked into her blue-green eyes.