by Sheri Duff
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Jack isn’t wearing overalls. He sports a pair of worn stonewashed jeans with rips in several places. His t-shirt is black. Matching homecoming outfits.
I’ve picked up my date before, but I’ve never brought him home to eat dinner with the family. Not on purpose anyway.
Did I just call them family? And why am I bringing him back here?
“This might be better than a Hot Brown,” Jack says taking a huge bite of his tortilla.
“What’s a Hot Brown?” Benny asks.
“The best dang sandwich on this side of the Mississippi,” Jack says.
“I’d like to try it,” Benny says.
“When my daddy and Sissy move back, we’ll have ya over,” Jack says.
“Where are you taking my Mazzie tonight?” Benny asks.
“I think I should be asking those questions.” My father inserts himself into the conversation. His smile is hard like the one he uses on the field when his team is losing.
“Massie and I are going to make a vase, Mr. Coach Trask.” Jacks waits for a response. He looks at my dad, then at Benny, and then at me.
I don’t say anything.
Alicia puts her fork down and stands. “That sounds fun,” she says. She puts her hand on my dad’s shoulder and then reaches for his water glass. She takes it to the freezer, puts more ice in it, and then fills it with water. When she returns to the table, she kisses my dad on the forehead before returning his water glass.
He looks up her and smiles. When he looks at Jack he is calm. “Where do you make vases in Pine Gulch?”
“I’m taking her to the art place by the grocery store. We’re going to sculpt,” Jack says.
“You better be able to teach me. I tried to do that in middle school and failed miserably,” I said. “It was horrible. I tried to make a bowl. It was so bad, I didn’t bring it home.”
“I sculpt a little,” Benny says.
Alicia squints her eyes. “A little, Papi? Don’t let him fool you. His pottery is famous throughout New Mexico, Texas, and Colorado.” She pats her dad’s hand. She looks so proud of him.
Jack looks at Benny. “You should come with us, Mr. Morales.”
“Oh, no,” Benny says. “This is your date.”
“Oh, yes,” I pull at him. What am I thinking? Why am I begging Benny to come with us? The truth is I want him to come and I don’t know why.
The instructor/owner of the shop screams when Benny introduces himself. Her name is Bianca. She looks like she’s grandma-age but she’s pretty. She’s got that Goldie Hawn look but with dark hair. She’s wearing a black top and a colorful scarf as a skirt over leggings. The turquoise in her skirt matches the stones in her bulky silver necklace and bracelet. The rest of the colors in her scarf look like the blankets in Alicia’s living room. Her red ballet slippers are adorable and I’m wondering if I can get away with this look. Gaby would love it.
The shop is small and there isn’t much of an entrance. There are three different spaces that are separated by walls but no doors. I would like to go where the easels are set up, except that room is full of women drinking wine and laughing as the instructor teaches them to paint a tree that is the color of the rainbow. I could do that. The room in the middle has counter-height tables in it that nobody is using, and the room on the right is where the smell of earth lingers. That is where we will be hanging out.
I draw, I don’t sculpt. So my attempt to make a vase is hysterical. When I think I have it down, the vase droops, then slumps. Jack smirks and I toss a small ball of clay at him.
“I keep doing it the way you told me, but it doesn’t work,” I say.
“There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Keep trying.”
“You and your little sayings.” I knead the clay with the ball of my hand.
He tries to help me. He starts the molding of the vase and I try to finish it. Each time the vase tips over, he laughs. I pout and toss clay at this mean Southern boy. Jack then spreads clay on the back of my shirt.
Bianca watches Benny mold together a coffee cup. I can’t even make a simple vase and he has an opening with a handle.
I finally produce something that almost stands on its own. “My vase is lopsided.”
“Once you paint it, it’ll be fine. Nobody will know you didn’t want it that way unless ya tell them,” Jack says. “You know, I think it’s perfect. Kinda like you.” He pulls at the loop in my overalls.
Bianca lets us stay until ten thirty. We don’t finish our vases, but she invites us back to finish the work free of charge. “Any time you wanna come, as long as I’m here,” she says. Probably to score points with Benny more than anything. I watched her flirt with him all night. It was kind of cute.
Per Benny’s request, we drive him home first. This is either the nicest thing he’s done for me, or he’s tired or needs to get to bed. Either way, I’ll take it.
Afterward, Jack and I stand by my car in front of his sister’s house. “I had a really nice time,” I say.
Jack leans in. I love how his forehead touches mine and the way he looks into my eyes when he talks. His hand reaches the back of my neck and he pulls me close. Our lips touch. His eyes don’t close. “Be my girl?”
“Yes.”
“I love the way your nose scrunches like that,” he says. Then he pulls me closer. The perfect ending to my night.
That is, until I get home and pull my shirt off and find that the clay that Jack was wiping on my back is a heart with J+M inside it.