A Notion of Love (2 page)

“Here,” he said as we claimed our spots on the glider. “Open your present.”

He'd grabbed it from the stack of gifts on the cake table. I was too excited to open it to do anything but rip the paper away. Inside was a white gift box from the local drug store.

“A Precious Moments figurine?” I asked skeptically, holding it up and inspecting the side.

“No, silly,” Chris said. “I just used the box. Open it.”

I did, struggling with the tape he'd applied industriously to each edge. But at last I managed and reached inside, extracting a small blue velvet…ring box? My heart just about stopped, but Chris laughed again, totally at ease. He said, “It's not an engagement ring, Jilly. Don't look so freaked out.”

I regained my voice and argued, “I'm not
freaked out
. But if it's not…”

“It's a promise ring,” he said, all traces of teasing suddenly vanished. His eyes were intent upon mine in the starlight. I felt my heart slam into my breastbone and then begin pounding as though I'd just jogged from downtown. He swallowed and caught my free hand between both of his. His hands were big and all knuckles, and I loved them. I loved everything about him, and honestly, if he'd asked me right at the moment to be his wife, my answer would have been yes.

“A promise ring?” I repeated carefully, cradling the box in my cupped palm.

“Here, open it,” he said, and freed my hand so I could.

“Oh,” I said, my eyes stinging with tears as the little box opened with a click and there on the velvet was a simple gold band with a heart in the middle, set with a tiny stone.

“It's a peridot,” he explained, and his voice was very soft. “For August. It's hard to tell in the dark.”

“I love it,” I whispered, my lips trembling. “Oh, Chris…”

He plucked it out and looked into my eyes a long moment before gently taking the third finger of my right hand into the tips of his and sliding the ring over my knuckle. It fit perfectly and he smiled in triumph.

“I had Joelle help me with the size,” he said.

“I love it,” I managed again, but tears were spilling over my cheeks. I had felt a shift in my belly when he'd put the ring on my finger, a gut instinct that I'd long ago learned never to ignore. I knew in that moment that he would be my husband someday. Not because of the ring and what it implied, but something much deeper, some instinct that kicked at me sometimes, usually when I was sleeping but occasionally in the waking world, too. And right then, without a doubt, I knew that he belonged to me and I would bear his name. And for a split second I'd felt a third presence, just a flash that disappeared almost instantly. But it had been there.

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it, gently. I lunged into his arms and heard the ring box and gift wrap plop into the lake. But I didn't care at the moment; the ring was safe on my finger. Chris gathered me close and kissed me, sweet and tenderly, like he did just about everything.

“I love you,” he said into my hair.

“Oh, Chris,” I said again, kissing the side of his jaw. “I love you. And I love my ring. It's beautiful.”

“Someday it'll be an engagement ring,” he whispered. “I promise.”

I buried my face in his neck and breathed against him. He slipped his hands around my waist, where it was bare from Joelle tying my tank into a knot. Sometimes he was so hesitant that I had to help him along, and reached to slip his palms up to cup my breasts. He breathed out in a rush and kissed me, his thumbs moving in gentle circles over my nipples. I pressed into his hands and kissed him with all of the love and emotion that was broiling under my skin.

“Hey, kiddos, whatcha doing out here?” came a teasing voice in the next instant, and we drew apart, though I kept my hands on Chris's shoulders.

Jackie and Jo were coming down from the café, holding hands. Jackie sounded half in the bag, despite the early hour and the presence of so many adults. But just about everyone here was probably two-thirds of the way there anyway, and not inclined to notice. Jackie would be Landon High's starting quarterback this fall, and no one really questioned anything he did. They were giggling and Jackie let my sister go first as they made their way out onto the dock to join us.

“So, do you love it?” Jo asked me, pushing her hair behind her ears and grinning at me. She was flushed and her breath smelled like some kind of fruity wine. She held out her hand for mine.

“I do,” I told her, drawing back from Chris and slipping my right hand into hers.

“Oh, Jilly, it's beautiful,” she practically cooed. “I knew it would fit.”

“What's this?” Jackie asked incredulously. “An engagement ring?”

“A promise ring,” Joelle corrected, slapping at his lean belly.

“What's the difference?” he asked, catching her loosely around the waist.

“It's a promise to be engaged,” Chris said, giving us all a grin. I couldn't help myself and kissed him again, until Jackie said, “I'm throwing you two in the lake if you don't quit.”

Joelle slapped at him again and he laughed and threatened to pitch her next. She shrieked and tried to wrestle away from him, but in the next moment he stepped back and peeled off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest. Jackie was such a show-off; half the time he was around he was shirtless. He gave us all a wicked grin and then unbuttoned his shorts, doing an Elvis-y thing with his hips as he slipped them down and then cannon-balled off the end of the dock. He surfaced with a roar and began energetically splashing us. We all yelped and Joelle screeched, “We have to do the cake pictures still, dumbass!”

Jackie only laughed, leaning his elbows on the end of the dock; with his dark curls slicked back he looked like a handsome, evil merman. He grabbed Jo's ankle.

“Girls!” Gran was yelling at us then, up on the porch and backlit by the lights. “Get up here for cake!”

“See?” Joelle said to Jackie as he leaped with muscular grace onto the end of the dock and tried to get his arms around her.

She darted away and ran towards the porch, with Jackson dripping in hot pursuit. Chris stood up and then surprised me by picking me up like a bride on her wedding night. I grinned at him and he said, “Happy birthday, Jilly. The first of many to come.”

***

Three hours
later most of the guests had headed back around Flickertail for home; just the regulars remained around the fire pit: Mom and Ellen, Gran and Minnie, Rich, Pam, and Dodge. I hadn't shown my ring to anyone other than Joelle yet. In the hubbub of the party no one was aware that I was hiding my right hand from view. I wasn't sure how Mom would react, especially, and wanted to wait until Chris wasn't here so he wouldn't be hurt if she was disapproving. No matter if she was, I planned never to remove my new ring.

A big group of us was swimming now, under the stars. The air was so still it was as though we were characters on a sound stage, spot-lit by the pale glow of the waxing moon. Our words and shrieks and laughter could probably be heard clearly for miles in every direction. I hugged Chris's shoulders as I rode on his back, pleasantly drunk—but not enough that I couldn't hide it from the womenfolk; Jo and I were experts at that. Jackie and Justin had my sister and Justin's girlfriend Aubrey on their shoulders. Jo and Aubrey were locked in good-natured combat, trying to knock one another into the water while the guys gripped their thighs and laughed uproariously. A few of our other friends had stuck around too; Jackie's bottle of peppermint schnapps had made the rounds for shots at least three times.

I held my right wrist loosely in my left hand, and Chris reached up every so often to rub his fingers over my palms, or he'd reach back and caress my legs under the water. I pressed my lips against his chilly neck again and again, or tipped my cheek against his back. We watched everyone playing and rough-housing from a safe distance, Chris chest-high in the lukewarm water. My long hair hung in snarls over my shoulders.

“I love seeing this on you,” he said, holding my ring between two long fingers. “I almost picked one with blue to match your eyes.”

“Oh, I like the green,” I assured him. “I love it.”

“I'm glad,” he said. And then, softly, “I'm so happy you're mine.”

Tears sparked in my eyes again, surprising me. For a moment I was so overwhelmed by my feelings for him that my chest literally hurt. In response, I hugged him as hard as I could. He turned his head and I leaned around to kiss him sideways.

“Then I'm the luckiest girl alive,” I said back, and he scooted me around with a smooth motion to kiss me much more thoroughly.

April, 1985

Prom was two weeks away and I'd
finally chosen a dress, after much debating. Mom had driven Jo and me all the way to Minneapolis to check out the prom shops. The unspoken message was that if we didn't pick something on this extensive excursion, we were up Shit Creek without a paddle, as Gran would say. At least if we wanted a dress that wasn't from the dime store in Landon. Jo had a specific dress in mind: short, black and with sequins across the front. Since just about every prom dress on display was either black or teal, she had no problem locating one that could have been made to order. She tried it on with a pair of very high heels—which made Mom cluck with disapproval—but Jo had brought her own money for shoes. I looked at her admiringly; I told her Jackie was going to freak out when he saw her.

“That's the idea,” she said, too low for Mom to hear as I joined her at the three-way mirror in the dressing room hallway. She pivoted again, asking, “Do you think the heels are too much?”

“No, they look great,” I said honestly. “I love the straps up your ankle.”

“Thanks, Jills,” she said, smoothing the short, tight skirt over her hips. “Now let's find you something to knock Chris's socks off.” And she raised her eyebrows up and down at me, suggestively. I giggled and felt myself blush and Jo added, “You're so cute.”

“I want something blue,” I said as we paced rows of possibilities, Jo clutching the dress-length bag containing her new get-up.

“Indigo blue or baby blue, or what, honey?” Mom asked. She was following at a small distance, making sure I hadn't passed up a good choice, I figured. Despite my protests, Mom loaded her arms with about ten choices, none the blue I'd been envisioning: sapphire, with a sparkle. Maybe glitter. Or with rhinestones over the front. Long, with a slit up to my thigh.

I tried each one to humor Mom; one thing I could count on was an honest response from both of them. Jo vetoed the first four, but wolf-whistled at the fifth, a taffeta dress the color of June roses. Deep magenta, it fit simply, tight across the breasts and then flaring into a skirt, a basic A-line but knee-length. I twirled tentatively, trying to see the back.

“Oh, Jilly Bean, this is the one,” Jo insisted, turning me by the shoulders to face the mirror again. She gathered my hair and twisted it expertly on top of my head, holding it there to demonstrate the overall look. I met her eyes in our reflections and smiled. She winked at me. “This is it, I feel it. Don't you?” she teased, nudging me with her elbow.

“It's not like that,” I explained for the millionth time. “And it is pretty. But I wanted a blue one.”

“Not when you have this one,” she said. Mom finally got up from the chair she'd perched on to watch.

“I like that one, too, Jillian,” she said. “That is a lovely color on you.”

“All right,” I agreed. “Thanks, Mom.”

***

After eating
lunch at a fancy—by our standards, anyway—restaurant, we'd headed back to Landon. Jo elected to drive while Mom dozed in the passenger seat, so we made it home an hour or so sooner, since Jo wasn't afraid to break the speed limit just a touch. We pulled into the café parking in the glow of early evening light; we'd driven out from beneath the thick gray quilt of clouds that had been blanketing the Twin Cities after an hour or so. The sky was currently the mellow blue of an early-spring evening, the light slanting in golds and auburns over the café as Jo parked and slapped both hands on the steering wheel. I grinned at her from the backseat and then studied our family's business out the front windshield. I loved Shore Leave so much. I couldn't imagine being separated from it for more than a day or so. Jo was different, longing to get away. The thought of that scared me and so I'd change the subject whenever her thoughts steered that direction.

“Jackie's here,” I observed, watching as he emerged from the café, Justin on his heels. They must have boated over from town, since neither one of their vehicles was in sight. Sure enough, as we climbed out of the car I spotted Dodge's ancient, beat-up dingy tied to our dock, with its outboard motor tilted up out of the water.

“So, you find a dress?” Jackie teased my sister. She made a show of twirling the long plastic bag around her head, but not letting him peek.

“Jackson,
no
,” she insisted. “It's a surprise.”

He grabbed her for a quick kiss and then said, “We're heading over to Justin's. I'll stop out later.”

“Okay,” she told him, pulling him back for one more smooch.

I rolled my eyes at Justin, who grinned at me and then grouched, “Come on, dude.”

“I can't believe you guys graduate this year,” I said, watching the guys jog down the hill and over the dock boards. Justin replaced the motor in the water and Jackie, who'd pulled a white skipper hat over his dark curls, fired the boat to life. They both waved up at us.

“I know, finally,” Joelle said, not understanding that I'd meant that as a lament.

“Thanks for driving,” Mom said then. She came up behind us laden with my dress and both of our shoe boxes.

“Jeez, Mom, here,” Joelle said, taking her shoes from Mom's arms.

Aunt Ellen stuck her head out the screen door and called, “Joanie! Girls! We could use some help in here.”

***

And so
it wasn't until after dinner rush that I was able to call Chris to tell him about my dress. Mom, Gran, Minnie and Ellen were sitting in the bar in the wake of the dinner rush, smoking and rolling silverware for tomorrow, a seemingly endless task. My sister was wiping down her tables out on the porch and I'd just counted my tips.

“I can't wait to see it,” he said, sounding happy. “Do I have to wait for the dance?”

“Yes,” I told him. “At least, according to Jo.”

We'd just celebrated our one year anniversary last month. I hadn't yet taken the promise ring from my finger where Chris had placed it on my birthday. I loved tipping my hand to and fro in the sunlight, watching the tiny green peridot glint and throw back sparks. Mom hadn't reacted the way I'd feared; instead she'd sighed and cupped my cheeks and said calmly, “If you promised your right ring finger to Tom and Elaine Henriksen's boy, then I'm happy for you, honey.”

Great-Aunt Minnie had harrumphed a little but said, “As long as you finish school first, Jilly Rae.”

Gran had taken my hand close to her eyes to give the ring a thorough examining. She pronounced, “It's lovely. And Chris is a sweet boy, not like that Jackson.”

Thank God Jo hadn't been there to hear this remark, since Gran would surely have made the same assessment with her present. I said, “Aw, Gran, Jackie's not so bad.”

Gran gave me a look that clearly meant:
when you're older, you'll know better.

“So, what color?” Chris asked, drawing me back to the present.

“Pink,” I told him.

“I'll get you roses then,” he said.

“Can you come over? I haven't seen you all day,” I complained, twisting the phone cord around my finger.

“I can't tonight,” he said apologetically. “Dad and me are cleaning the garage. I promised I'd help until it was done.”

Chris's parents were older, closer to Gran's age than my mother's. He was an only child and had been born when they were in their late 40s. And so I understood that when he said his dad needed help, he really meant it.

“I'll see you tomorrow then,” I told him and kissed the receiver with a loud smack. “There, that's for good-night.”

Chris laughed and my heart felt warm and whole. He said, softly, “I wish I was there to really kiss you. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” And I hung up thinking that someday soon he would be in my arms to kiss me good-night every night. He would be my husband, and we'd live just across town from Shore Leave. Better yet, we could build a little cabin-sized place on the property. That way I could still see and hear Flickertail on a daily basis, and be here to help Great-Aunt Minnie dye her hair, and sit on the dock in the evenings to watch the sun set. I was smiling as I helped myself to a glass of root beer. Joelle came through the door from the porch, untying her server apron. Her hair was slung back in a ponytail low on her neck and she looked tired. I was about to ask her if she needed help when the phone on the front counter rang again.

I caught it up on the second ring, saying, “Shore Leave Café!”

“Joelle?” came a voice I didn't recognize, though I felt I should. It was a woman's and she sounded upset.

“No, but she's right here,” I said, motioning for my sister.

She came over at once and frowned at my expression, taking the phone from my grasp and saying, “Hello?” with a worried tone.

I watched as her face went from concerned to outright terrified. She said nothing but, “Oh my God,” and, “I'll be right there,” before hanging up, grabbing her purse from behind the counter and then racing to the parking lot without an explanation.

“Jo!” I yelled, clacking out the screen door in her footsteps. “Wait!”

She slowed a fraction, digging through her purse for the keys to the wagon. Tears were seeping over her cheeks as I caught up to her and grabbed her arm before she darted away again.

“What's going on?” I demanded.

She said, “It's Jackie, come on, let's go.”

We were break-necking towards Landon before I heard any more explanation. Jo, wiping tears from her face with one hand, explained, “That was Jackie's mom. He and Justin are both in the hospital.”

“What?” I gasped. “Why?”

“They…somehow they fell off a train!” she wailed, and accelerated.

We had to drive to Rose Lake, ten miles away and the next town over, since Landon doesn't have its own hospital. Jo drove 75 miles an hour. By the time we pulled into the parking lot streetlights were flooding the space in an eerie white glow, blocking out the glint of stars in the darkening sky. I followed my sister at a jog. Jackie's mother Pat met us as we bolted through the automatic door that slid soundlessly to accommodate us.

“Oh my God, are they okay? Where is he?” Jo cried, both of her hands plunged into her hair, like she was about to tear it out.

Pat looked more composed than she'd sounded on the phone, and hugged Joelle for a moment, rubbing her back. She said, “Honey, it's all right, they'll both be all right. Jackie scared us for a minute there, but the doctor says he'll be fine.”

“Can I see him?” my sister asked, her eyes still full of tears.

“Of course, he's just up one floor, room 207,” Pat told us.

I followed my sister, feeling useless; probably Mom and everyone were wondering where the hell we'd gone. I figured I better give them a call before they got too worried and called the police or something. Inside the hospital room, Jackie was lying in a twin bed, eyes closed. His forehead and one wrist were bandaged, and he looked unusually pale. Jo made a whimpering noise and raced to the bedside, her hands fluttering over him. I stood in the background, my heart bumping in sympathy for my sister.

“Jackie,” she said, tears flooding over her face. Even though I meant to keep my distance I couldn't help but move forward and touch her back lightly. Jackson's left cheek was bruised but his eyelids fluttered and he looked up at us, then attempted to smile.

“Jo,” he muttered. “I'm sorry.”

She leaned over him instantly and cupped his face. He bent his arm with a slight grimace and wrapped it around her hips.

“Don't scare me like this,” she told him softly, brushing at his curls with gentle fingers.

“Hey, guys,” Justin said then, coming into the room, and I turned gratefully to him, embarrassed to be witnessing such an intimate scene.

“Hey,” I said back.

“Just five stitches for me,” he said, sounding sheepish, indicating a bandage over his right eyebrow. “Hope it doesn't scar.”

“What happened?” Jo demanded, turning her face towards Justin, who immediately held up his hands like a gunfighter proving he didn't have a weapon.

“We decided it would be fun to hop the train for a free ride. And smart guy here slipped and fucking fell off the side, so I had to jump after his ass,” Justin said, indicating Jackie.

Jackie groaned from the bed. “Hey, I said I was sorry.”

Jo turned back to him, her cheeks flushed with a look I knew well. She snapped, “Dammit, Jackson! You promised you wouldn't do this stupid shit anymore! Are you in seventh grade?”

Jackie closed his eyes and even I could tell he was trying to amp up the pitiful look so Jo would quit yelling at him.

“Jills, you need a ride home?” Justin asked then. “I was just gonna head out. They discharged me but Jackie's gotta stay the night.”

I turned to my sister, who was again smoothing Jackie's hair. I asked, “You want me to stay, Joey?”

She shook her head. “No, but thanks, Jills. I'll stay here for awhile.”

I hugged her hard and Justin said, with the kind of affectionate undertone guys use when they care about each other and rely on insults to show it, “Sleep tight, dumbass.”

Justin and I said good-night to Pat and then walked out into the night together in silence. He led the way to his truck. I was surprised when he opened the door for me and then remembered Aubrey, his girlfriend who was in my grade, talking about him being a gentleman like that. But it made sense, because Dodge was that type, too.

“Thanks,” I told him, climbing up. After he'd slid behind the wheel and gunned the truck to life I asked, “Do your parents know you guys are here?”

“Yeah, Mom freaked out a little, but I told her I just got a few stitches,” he said, driving us out of the lot. Rose Lake was a pretty town, just a little bigger than Landon.