Chapter 3

It had only been a day, but it felt strange to be going back to school. Spending a day in the middle of the week with Jack was amazing.

I like my sleep, and getting up at 5:30 every school day was going to take some getting used to. But being able to snuggle up to Jack and hold his arm all the way to school would make it worth my while.

Over the past couple of months, there had been several turning points in my life.

Running into Jack was the first one, of course; the one that started it all. I felt a closeness, almost as if we were fated to be together when I first laid his head in my lap. When he looked at me and asked me if I was an angel, I knew I'd found my soul mate.

The day we went on our bike ride and I told him I wanted him to be my first was another. When we left the Dairy Queen, he could have dragged me behind the bushes and had me right there if he wanted. But he showed his love by insisting that the pill was working and that our first time wasn't in the grass or the back seat of a car. Later that afternoon, we seemed to be operating on the same wavelength. When we rode our bikes around the lake, we'd stop, hold hands while straddling them, watching whatever we stopped to see, then start riding again. The strange thing about it was that the decisions to stop and go weren't his or mine. It was as if one mind was operating both bodies.

My birthday had been another watershed. I've had meals just as good before, though not many. The balloons were kind of hokey, which made him all the more adorable. The earrings and Jack sending Wanda out with me to pick out a nice dress were both nice gifts. But the thing that brought us closer together was the love for me that all his efforts showed. Coming home and making love was fantastic, but the best part of the whole night, no, my whole life, was falling asleep in my soul mate's arms, feeling that security and that rightness as he held me close.

Strange as it seems, I didn't regard the first time we made love in the same way. Oh, it was fantastic, don't get me wrong. But it was almost as if it was one step along the path of us getting closer and closer, one more way to express our love for each other.

We had our share of upsets, too. There were a few times it looked as if we were going to break up, first over my age, then over my jealousy and stupidity. Compensating for my age by trying to look and act older than I am had just the opposite effect on Jack. There were a few times I wondered if I would ever be able to do anything right in his eyes. And then there was the discovery of Wanda in my father's bed. I suppose that would have been acceptable; what really got to me was the discovery of my father in Wanda.

I know you can't run away from your problems. For years, I got teased at school because any time the teacher gave us a long term assignment, I'd treat it just like any other and have it done in a few days. I kept up with my homework and never had to pull an all nighter. The few times there was a problem with someone at school, I confronted him or her head on and it was over and done with. But every instinct I had told me to run and hide when it came to my father and Wanda. And now that I'd allowed Wanda to stay with us, I put the knowledge that she was part of it away in some hidden place and all the blame went on Daddy. Especially now that there was some kind of physical abuse going on that neither of them was talking about.

Throughout the whole ordeal, Jack had been my rock. He comforted me when we found them in bed, brought me home and held me, handled both his mother and me so I didn't spontaneously combust that first night, and gradually gave me things to look at and think about along the way. I'd almost accepted the fact that Daddy and Wanda were a couple when the signs that he was hurting her started to show up.

Why do we feel we can attack those who are closest to us? We say things to people we supposedly love that we would never say to a friend or even a stranger. Daddy seemed to be doing the same thing to Wanda, only he was doing it physically, as well. In my mind, I tried Daddy and found him guilty the first time I saw that something was wrong. His punishment was losing me.

Jack was able to stand back a bit and look at things. I don't know how many times he told me that I needed to hear my father's side before I stuck his head on a pike. Jack wasn't blind, though. That night when we moved into the apartment and he told Daddy he wouldn't put up with his abuse of Wanda in our home made me feel so proud and safe that I almost cried.

All those things were reasons I let Jack bully me into inviting my father over for dinner tonight. No, he didn't hit me or anything, but that would almost have been better than the way he played dirty and used my conscience and my love for my father against me. Jack was the only person on this earth who could have broken through my defenses and made me give Daddy a chance. I have a lot of love and respect for June, but I don't think even she would have been able to make me do what Jack did.

After I got off the phone with my father, the little shit raised the stakes, too. Now it wasn't "listen to him and give him a chance to explain." Oh Nooo, Jack wanted me to not only do that, but to make everything better, get things back to the way they were before any of this started. And he wanted it done before the barbecue on Sunday. He made it clear that the two of us were to be friendly and speaking to each other at the party with no bullshit.

The worst thing about it is I knew he was right. God, I hate when that happens.

After I finished my phone call with Daddy, Jack made a call of his own.

"Hello? Is June there?"

"Oh, Hi, Debby. It's Jack Hill. The one with the blue rose and the balloons."

"Very happy. You guys did a fantastic job. I want to stop by today and give you my debit card and pick up my key."

"Oh. OK. Let me give you my number." He gave her our phone number, then said, "You too. Talk to you later."

He walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me.

"That was the flower lady. The ones who did the balloons. June has the key and she doesn't work at the shop anymore. Debby's going to call her and get back to me."

I have to admit there was a little something there. I know the red rose was gorgeous and I didn't expect it, which made it even better. But I wondered about any woman who would leave lipstick on my boyfriend's face, married and pregnant or not. I think I jumped when the phone rang. Jack leaned over to pick it up, keeping one arm around my waist.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Hi, June. No problem. Hang on a second."

He backed up from me. "Jill, can you get me something to write on?"

I got a notepad and pen from my desk and gave them to him. He gave me a quick kiss.

"OK. Shoot." He wrote something down.

"Nah, that's OK. I can look it up on MapQuest. We can leave in about a half hour. Oh, I'm sure she wants to meet you, too. OK. See you soon. Oh. June? We both loved the balloons. OK. Thanks."

Her hung up the phone and said,

"All right. Here's your chance to meet the mystery flower lady who has your panties in a bunch."

"Nuh, uh."

He just stared at me.

"Well, maybe a little."

He pulled me toward him, kissed me on the forehead, then gave me a real kiss.

"We're going to her house in Anaheim Hills. Then we need to go to my swim meet at school. I'm going to wear jeans and a T-shirt over my trunks, but you can wear what you feel comfortable in."

He went into the living room to get on the computer so I looked in my closet. I found some black cords and a pumpkin blouse that were acceptable for school but left no doubt what sex I am. I wore my "knock em dead tits" bra and took my letterman's jacket for later when it got cold.

Jack gave me the customary slap on the butt on the way out to the car. He handed me the directions and I told him which streets to turn on. When we got on June's street, we went way up the hill, almost to the top. The houses looked very pricey.

"How does a florist afford to live up here?"

"I don't know. Maybe she sells a lot of flowers."

"I guess."

We parked in the driveway and walked around a beat up Ford Aerostar and a three or four year old Volvo, then up three steps to a double doorway with stained glass in both doors. Jack pushed the doorbell and a double pitched chime went off twice.

There was a scraping sound and the door was opened by a man a little taller than Jack, dressed in a bathing suit, his hair wet, a towel around his neck. He looked to be old enough to be my grandfather, if I still had one. There were two labs, one yellow and one black sitting behind him. They looked anxious to get to us but had obviously been trained to stay.

"Hi. You must be the famous Jack and Jill. I'm Pete. These two are Queenie and Bozo."

Jack shook his hand and said, "That's funny. We have a couple of dogs with the same names."

He just looked at Jack and said, "How 'bout that?"

I put my hand out to shake his and he picked it up and brought it to his lips, just brushing the skin. I felt it all the way up my arm and down my spine.

"Jack wasn't kidding when he told my wife how beautiful you are." He looked over at Jack. "You're a very lucky man. Whatever you do, don't lose her."

Jack said, "I won't, Sir."

He looked like he'd been slapped. "Pete. June and Pete. Please."

I squatted down and looked at the dogs. They looked at their owner and he said, "OK. But Beee Goood."

He had to raise his voice and stress the last two words because they took off like a shot and were scrambling to get a grip on the tile floor in order to reach me as soon as the word OK was out of his mouth. Unlike my Bozo, they didn't try to knock me over or climb on top of me. But they loved being petted. Jack leaned over and scratched Queenie behind the ear and she acted just like our Queenie. All it took was one nudge and Bozo was on his side, his belly exposed for me to scratch it.

Pete said June was on the patio and asked if we wanted something to drink as we walked back. The kitchen was unbelievable. I looked at Jack.

"I want a kitchen like that."

Jack turned and said, "Then you better get a good job."

Pete went over to the refrigerator and poured some crushed ice and water from the door dispenser. He held it up and we both told him we'd like some.

Pete fixed us each a glass, then led the way to a sliding glass door at the far end of the kitchen and we went out on the patio. The first thing that came to view was a huge swimming pool. Jack looked at Pete.

"Is that Olympic sized?"

"You betcha. My wife used to compete."

I said, "So does Jack."

I heard a woman say, "You never told me you were a swimmer, Jack."

He said, "We had other things to talk about that day."

"Yes, we did. I take it my rose helped, then."