A Notion of Love (15 page)

“Spare the rod,” Dodge intoned, but the look he gave his boy was affectionate.

Ruthie and the other kids returned and proceeded to roast marshmallows for us, while the fire painted our faces orange and Justin was close enough that if I reached six inches I could have cupped his right knee. I felt whole with him so near, loving every word and laugh and gesture, noticing every detail as though for the first time. His lean, muscled forearms and wrists, dusted with dark hair. His beautiful strong hands, broad palms and long fingers with oil stains that were never fully scrubbed away. His lanky legs and bare feet; he'd kicked off his flip-flops somewhere. His straight nose, his long eyelashes and teasing mouth. His firm jaw and stubborn chin, presently peppered with dark stubble now that it was evening. His hair was black as ink and hung almost to his shoulders when wet; it was wild and wavy now in the firelight, making my fingers itch to caress it. His deep laugh that I felt in my low belly. Surely I was resonating with longing, though I laughed and joked just as much as usual, feigning nonchalance when everything inside of me was screaming my love for him.
Soon
, I assured myself.
Soon
.

***

Hours later
Jo had returned home to find us still around the fire, followed almost immediately by Bly; I'm was sure they were hoping everyone would believe had just shown up coincidentally.

Good Lord, Jo,
I thought again, almost giggling at how transparent she'd become. But I knew that was because she was hoarding her time with him, getting slightly desperate now that summer was rolling along like a reckless child on a scooter, faster and faster, potentially dangerous, on a collision course with the end of the road.

We'd taken out the canoes at the insistence of the Tish, my son and his friends, who'd at least hauled the gear back up to the shed before taking off for the house and the promise of food at a run, leaving Justin and me alone to finish the clean up. Mom, Ellen, Dodge, Gran and the smaller kids had since long vanished to bed, leaving only the last of the embers in the fire pit. Joelle was heading back to the house as Blythe drove away, and now my heart was firing hard; Justin was lingering, taking his time putting away the life jackets. Despite how much we'd flirted on the water, me in the bow of the canoe and him steering us along the edge of Flickertail, we hadn't been truly alone since he'd removed the ice cream from my lip earlier in the evening, and I tried to cover my nerves by kicking ashes over the last bit of glowing coal.

“Anything else need to go in here, Jills?” he called over, sounding so innocent.

I headed that way with my heart clubbing to find him bent inside the shed, stuffing the last life jacket in place. He turned and I swallowed, only a few feet from him. It was dark and the breeze had picked up, but the shiver that fluttered over me had nothing to do with the chill air. Justin's eyes were hot as coals. I was in his arms in the next instant; I wasn't even sure which of us had moved first. He caught me close with one arm, catching the back of my head with the other, tipping me into his kiss to his satisfaction, while I clung to his neck and kissed him back with total abandon. His tongue swept into my mouth and he tasted sweet, like the roasted marshmallows we'd been eating all night. We hadn't kissed since the night on the golf cart, way too long ago.

Justin took us back into the life jackets, which were piled haphazardly on the cement floor of the shed, without breaking our kiss. In fact, it intensified as I straddled him and then he rolled us to the side, keeping my legs around his hips. He was angled just above me now, and I had the fleeting thought that if I died at this moment, I would die happy. I was in his arms at last and my heart was bounding with the joy of it.

“You taste so good, Jills,” he muttered against my mouth, his fingers widespread, gripping my hips. “So damn good.”

I curled into him, kissing his chin, his neck, breathing him in like an illegal drug that might not always be available to me.

“I can't handle being apart from you anymore,” he said, and hope absolutely welled within me. His eyes drove into mine and he asked formally, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

I couldn't help but giggle at his choice of words, which were so high school, and though I longed to be much more than that to him, I would take this for now. I rested my forearms against his chest and said, “I think I'd like that.”

He cupped my jaw in one hand and said, his voice low, “You're right, I have been a total chicken shit this last month. Jillian, beautiful woman, will you let me make it up to you?” He gently stroked my face and the look in his eyes sent my heart firing even harder.

“Starting now,” I whispered back, leaning in and taking his bottom lip between my teeth, biting him lightly.

He made a sound deep in his throat and my heart responded fiercely. He caught me hard against his chest, moving swiftly over me and kissing me with all of his skill. I gripped his shirt with both fists, melting into him, considering just how risky it would be to get him out of his swim trunks right here in the shed. But it was that exact instant I heard my son, from a distance, calling, “Mom! Where are you?”

I pulled back, the haze of desire still clouding my mind.

Justin shook his head, coaxing, “Don't go yet…please…” He drew me into one more kiss, where I clung for a heady moment before duty insistently tugged me away. This time he rose with me, crushing me close and hard for one last moment, rocking us side to side and then kissing my lips one last time, gently.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” I told him, moving reluctantly from his warm arms. I added, teasing him, “My boyfriend.”

He laughed a little, running his hand slowly over my arm and sending shivers cavorting along my limbs. Clint was coming, I could hear him, and I hurried around the edge of the shed, trying to look as though I hadn't just been making out. Luckily my son was totally unobservant to such things. He saw me and called, “Mom, we're outta toilet paper!”

Justin laughed again, responding, “You're camping, buddy, use a leaf,” as he headed for his truck. His teasing words struck me as something Chris would have said to Clint, had he lived to watch his son grow up. I watched Justin go with my heart simultaneously joyous and aching; just before he got to the driver's side he paused and looked back at me, and I felt a deep, lightning-quick flash of what makes life worth living.

The next night Justin picked me up
for our first-ever date.

I spent an hour getting ready, my stomach trembling with equal parts excitement and wonder. I listened to the radio while soaking in my tub, using my favorite coconut oil in the water, then shaved my legs and dabbed vanilla-scented perfume lightly between my breasts. I let my hair air-dry so it would be soft, and had the thought as I looked at myself in the mirror that maybe I could grow it out again. I feathered my fingers through it and then reapplied lip gloss; I wasn't a huge fan of make-up but spent a little time accenting my eyes. Finally I slipped into my sexiest bra and thong panties, black and sheer. Over these, my hands getting slightly shaky now as I anticipated Justin removing everything I was currently slipping on my body, I wore a soft, red cotton sundress, patterned with tiny cream flowers and a short, swishy skirt.

“Girl, you look like you're headed for trouble,” Gran teased me as I roamed over the café minutes later, seeking a beer to calm my nerves.

Ellen caught me around the waist for a hug and said, “Sweetie, I'm so happy that you're going out on a date with Justin. He's had a crush on you for ages now.”

I regarded Ellen with surprise, which she saw on my face and rolled her hazel eyes, adding, “I may not see as much as your gran, but I'm not blind.”

Mom said, “Jilly, you haven't looked so pretty since I don't know when.”

I knew she meant this as a compliment and so thanked her. I felt pretty, and desirable, and my boyfriend was coming to take me out. As I sat at the counter to sip my beer and wait, I found myself thinking about autumn evenings in high school, getting dragged to football games with Jo, who attended them all to watch Jackie of course. I could close my eyes and picture Justin in his football uniform, white with blue, his black hair even longer back then, hanging well past his helmet in back. His jersey was number six, I remembered that too. In high school he'd been even leaner, wiry and fast on the field. Even if I hadn't been entirely conscious of it, my eyes had followed Justin, taken note. Even as Chris's girlfriend, even loving Chris as much as I had. I could acknowledge that now.

I couldn't help but remember Aubrey from those days too; she'd been a cheerleader, a tall girl with long reddish-brown hair. Aubrey and her auburn curls. She'd been the kind of girl who got away with almost anything because of her good looks. I had hated her then, because she was snobby and bitchy, a bragger. I could also clearly recall Justin pitching his helmet to the side as he darted across the field after the game, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. And so maybe I'd hated her for a deeper reason; Justin had been in love with her once upon a time, had married her out of high school.

I believed she was the reason he was scared to acknowledge his feelings for me, and I couldn't blame him. We'd both been hurt, and we'd both lost a spouse, but Justin had been betrayed. And I had seen only some of the aftermath of that.

“The boy's here,” Gran said, and I leaped up, my heart suddenly throbbing, but Gran added, “No, he'll come to the door like any young man taking my granddaughter out.”

I tried to breathe in and steady my heart, watching as Justin parked and climbed out of his truck. But then I felt a blush flaming over my face and down the rest of my body; he was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. Lilacs, unbelievably purple, my favorite color. I took one more gulp from my beer before Justin was climbing the porch steps, grinning and handsome as hell, decked in jeans and a white polo shirt. The white accentuated his dark tan, his black hair and eyebrows, and although I could tell he'd just shaved, there was always a hint of dark stubble on his jaw. My entire body pulsated with desire at just the sight of him in the evening light. Why had I fought it for so long?

Mom and Ellen were on the porch, rolling silverware, and he stopped to chat with them, grinning and teasing them about something; Mom made him laugh and my heart tripped even faster just hearing the sound of it through the open windows. At last he came in the café, his eyes seeking me instantly, and a slow, smoldering smile lifted his lips. He let his dark gaze move over me and he blinked once, almost in slow motion, his eyes sizzling into mine. I couldn't help myself, I didn't care that there were still a few customers in the bar; I gave into my instinct and flew to him, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing his jaw as he crushed me close for a moment. I was aware that interested looks were being directed our way.

“Hi,” he said then, low and soft. “You look amazing.”

“You too,” I told him. I couldn't seem to stop smiling at him.

“Oh for heaven's sake, let me get those flowers in some water,” Gran said, coming up behind us.

“Yes, ma'am,” Justin said, relinquishing the lilacs, a huge bundle of them, over to Gran.

She said, “Have a good time, you kids,” and I added, “Those are beautiful, by the way.”

Justin took my hand and kissed it, then hooked his fingers through mine. I almost couldn't believe the wealth of touches I had been so long without, his warmth and presence that took my breath away. He said, “I picked those myself, just so you know. Well, used a hedge clipper anyway, on that big bush of them on the shore by the station.”

“I love them,” I said softly, calling bye to Gran as he led me back outside into the mellow blue-gold evening. Mom and Ellen waved as we headed across the parking lot.

At his truck he opened the door and put his hand on the small of my back to help me inside; it felt so good I almost stumbled, wondering how in the hell I would possibly wait until sometime later, maybe even hours, before I could get my arms and legs wrapped around him. It wasn't that I didn't want to have dinner and chat like a civilized person for awhile first…I did, truly, but there was an insistent ache within me that only he could relieve.

Jillian
, I scolded myself.

“So I was planning to cook dinner for you,” he said, climbing in behind the wheel. “But I thought you might want something more gourmet than mac and cheese.”

I giggled, tipping my chin to look at him. Justin drove approximately fifty feet, until we'd cleared the sight of Shore Leave, and then abruptly pulled over on the side of the road and wasted no time in scooting across the bench seat and gathering me for a kiss. I murmured in gladness, slipping my arms around his neck as he kissed me deeply and absolutely, before pulling just slightly away and letting his dark eyes caress mine. My heart was clattering against his chest. I curled my fingers over the back of his neck.

“God, you look good,” he told me. “I wanted to do that right away, but it's a little intimidating with Louisa right there.”

I giggled again, a part of me wondering when I had become such a giggler. He brushed his lips gently over mine, just the faintest of touches, flooding my belly with desire, before moving back to his side of the truck. I bit my bottom lip, still tasting him, light-headed.

Justin caught my left hand in his right, again curling his fingers through mine. He said, “But don't worry, I have a plan.”

“A plan?” I teased him, stroking the back of his hand with my thumb. His skin was tough and brown, such working-man hands. I couldn't have loved them more.

“I thought we could get dinner at Rubio's in Bemidji and then…well…I do have a carton of ice cream in my freezer. I thought maybe if I was lucky that might entice you back to my house.”

“Should I be offended?” I teased him right back. “I mean, if ice cream is all you think it takes…”

“Jilly-Anne, I would risk life and limb if I thought I might have a chance to get you to come over.”

“I don't expect anything that drastic,” I told him, though his easy teasing pleased me immeasurably. “Ice cream works just fine. As long as it's caramel, with pecans.”

“Fuck, it's chocolate,” he said, taking the truck through town and then towards the interstate.

“Then forget it,” I said. “Some boyfriend.”

“I guess you'll miss out,” he said, shrugging.

I turned his hand over in mine and placed it carefully on my left thigh, bare beneath my short skirt. He drew in a breath, not taking his eyes from the road, and skimmed his fingers gently over my flesh. I curled my own fingers around the edge of the seat beneath me.

“That's just low-balling now, Jilly. Like when we played pool,” he teased me, though his voice had a slight catch. He added, “You're so damn soft.”

I shivered at his words and replied, “You should have bought caramel with pecans. Dammit, Justin.”

He stroked his fingers over my leg. As he merged onto the interstate I told him, “I was just thinking about watching you play football back in high school. Jo used to drag me to the games to watch Jackie. You were number six.”

“You know what, I tried to put on that jersey like seven years ago and I couldn't get it over my shoulders. I was a skinny little bastard back then.”

“You weren't ever skinny,” I disagreed. “Well, maybe as a little kid. But ‘skinny' isn't the right word. You were sexy as hell in high school. I was just thinking that I must have noticed way more than I realized.”

“I've been thinking about you back then too. Your long hair.” His voice was soft as he added, “I think your hair suits you better short though, Jilly. You are incredibly beautiful. I've always thought so.”

“Thank you,” I told him, my own voice soft with inexplicable shyness at the compliment.

Justin added quietly, “You keep it short because of Chris, don't you?”

If this had been a regular first date, as in the couple didn't know much about one another, he'd have never dared or even known to ask. But this wasn't a regular first date, and we knew more about each other than many married couples. And because I was in love with him, even if I hadn't spoken the words yet, I was able to say, “Yeah. He loved my hair so much.”

“Aw, Jilly, I could hardly bear to be at his funeral, it was so sad. And what you did…that moved me so much. I just want you to know that.” His voice was husky as he trailed off, probably fearing to offend me for real. He meant how I'd buried all of my hair with my husband. But I wasn't offended; I took his hand again, needing to feel his fingers around mine. His hand was so strong and solid and I remembered my dream, when the green star grew hot and pulsing because Justin was near. He sensed my need and held my hand tightly. After a moment he went on, his voice still soft, “I have never forgotten how you looked curled in that snow bank that day.”

“That was such a horrible day,” I said, my own voice a little hoarse. But I wasn't in danger of crying. “I didn't think I could go on another moment. You carried me inside, but I didn't realize it until later.”

Justin tightened his grip on my hand, stroking me now with gentle motions. After a moment he nodded.

I said quietly, “Thank you for that.”

“Aw, Jilly, you don't need to thank me,” he said. His voice took on an almost confessional tone as he said, “God, I was shredded up that day. But I know it wasn't anything close to what you were feeling. I wanted to climb on that bed with you and curl you in my arms. I knew I had no right to feel that, but I did. It was so hard to walk away.”

My heart squeezed at his tone and I gripped his hand hard, loving him so much. I wanted to tell him, everything inside of me was aching to tell him. But I drew in a breath and said, “Thank God for Jo and my family. Clint wouldn't have managed without them.”

“He's a lot like his dad, isn't he?” Justin asked.

“Yeah. He's sweet as could be, never gets upset, just like Chris,” I said, but no tears sprang into my eyes. Instead I just felt grateful that I had my boy, and that in him the best parts of Chris would live on.

“Chris would love to see how much he's grown. Clint is a good kid. You should be proud of yourself, Jills,” Justin said.

I brought his hand up, our fingers threaded together, and cupped it beneath my chin. I said, “I am. Clinty is the best thing I've ever done.”

“Is it unforgivable for me to be jealous of someone who's dead?” Justin asked a second later, catching me by surprise.

I said, without thinking, “No, because I'm jealous too.” He tipped his head at me, eyebrows asking me to explain. I added, “Of Aubrey. I told you I was thinking today about high school.”

Then I felt small and petty, but Justin said, his voice so serious, “Jillian. She's got nothing on you. Don't get me wrong. I loved her once. Or at least, I thought I did. It's funny how that works.”

“That's what Jo said about Jackie,” I said. And then, maybe just to torture my own happiness, I asked, directing my gaze out the passenger window, “Do you still miss her?”

“No,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But I do miss high school sometimes. I miss the person I used to be, in some ways. But I've learned so much since then. Especially about moving on.”

I dared to look back over at him, relief flooding me. I said, “I always hated her, you know.”

Justin surprised me by laughing. He said, “Yeah, I got that sense the night we talked on the boat landing. Remember when you told me that she was telling everyone that I liked to get spanked?”

I laughed then, heartily. We'd covered quite a range of emotion in the last ten minutes, and thankfully we were now back to easy laughter. I admitted, “I totally lied that day. I just wanted to shock you, or impress you, or something.”

“I've never told this to anyone,” he said, and now I lifted my eyebrows at him. He went on, “That night you said that, the night Jackie and I fell off the train, I dreamed that you, little Jillian Davis, were spanking the hell out of me. So that's what comes when you tell lies.”

I made a disbelieving noise that was choked out by another wave of laughter.