by Lynne Jaymes
We set our stuff down at one of the long wooden tables and head to the buffet. There are three steam trays full of strips of fried catfish, one of fries and one of little round golden nuggets that I’m assuming are hushpuppies. Not all that different from what Nana makes on a Sunday. “What are those?” I ask Jenna, pointing to small rectangular fried somethings.
“Chicken fried steak strips,” she says. She bumps me with her hip. “It sounds disgusting, but they’re actually good. There’s a salad bar over there.” I glance over and see a mound of iceberg, croutons and ranch dressing.
“I’m good,” I say, piling my plate with fries and catfish, a healthy spoonful of tartar sauce on the side.
“I like to see a boy who can eat,” Gramps says from behind his own heaping plateful of food. “Not like these city boys with their too-tight skinny pants and fancy beards.”
“Dad,” her mom says. “Don’t be rude. Ty’s from San Francisco.”
“That right?” he eyes me suspiciously and leans forward, his belly mounding over the table “Is it true what they say? That there’s all kinds of boys running around kissing boys and girls kissing girls?”
“Jed!” her gram says. “Stop it.”
“Seriously Gramps,” Jenna scolds.
I wipe my mouth with a paper napkin not totally sure if he’s joking or not. “I guess so. Mostly in the Castro, but nobody really cares what anybody else does, as long as you don’t steal their parking spot.”
Her gram shakes her head. “I couldn’t stand all that traffic. Even going down to Austin to go to the airport gets me rattled.”
Gramps sits back and rubs his belly. “It’s not natural if you ask me,” he says.
“What, the traffic?” her mom asks.
“No! The way everyone these days just up and goes off with whoever or whatever strikes their fancy. Men with men, women with women, black people with white people. Pretty soon it’s going to be legal for a man to marry his dog.”
I have a feeling we’re not talking about San Francisco anymore.
“Gramps…” Jenna warns. “Nina and Mitch aren’t any of your business.”
“I mean it,” he says, pointing a thick finger at her. “What do you think that boy’s parents are going to say when he brings that little black girl home with him? They’re like to have a heart attack I bet. And what if she gets pregnant, God forbid? Not all the way black, not all the way white—too much of both and not enough of either one. That’s a horrible thing to do to a child if you ask me.”
That last sentence feels like a punch in the gut. I knew people said this kind of stuff, but it’s different sitting here at the table listening to it in person, watching the hate rise up in his eyes not having any idea who is really sitting at the table with him. I should say something, anything to defend them, but I grip the bottom of my chair with both hands and keep my mouth shut. Going off on him isn’t going to get me anywhere and nothing is going to change the old man’s mind.
“All that matters is that they love each other,” Jenna says, her voice patient, like this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.
Gramps shakes his head and tosses his napkin onto his plate. “The way this world is going, there ain’t going to be no more natural blondes like your boyfriend here. Everyone’s going to be a mixed-up mashed-up race of brown people.”
I try to smile at him, but I know my face is tight and there’s absolutely nothing I can say at this point that isn’t going to get me in a shitload of trouble. I was absolutely right—there’s no way Jenna would be able to go out with me if they knew the truth.
“Come on Jed,” Gram says, patting him on the back. “Let’s get some more catfish before we have to get on out of here.”
With a grunt, Gramps hauls himself out of the chair and follows her to the buffet.
“Sorry about that,” Jenna’s mom says, following them with her eyes. “I know you’re probably not used to that, being from California and all.”
“It’s okay,” I manage, feeling my stomach turn as I think about the conversation. Mom and Dad would never forgive me if they knew I just sat there and said nothing.
“My father’s not a bad person,” she says, sounding like she’s trying to convince both of us. “He does charity work, belongs to the Shriners, cooks dinner for hundreds of old folks on Christmas. He’s just set in his ways about some things.”
“Hmpf,” Jenna says, sitting back in her chair. “He’s still living in the ‘50’s.”
“I know,” her mom sighs. “But he’s too old to change, so just let it go.”
We manage to avoid the topic for the rest of dinner, finally filing out of the Fish Barn into the warm spring night.
“Now Ty,” Gram says, one hand on my arm. “Y’all must come down and see us soon.”
Jenna looks at me, suddenly guilty again. “We’re both awfully busy Gram.”
“Your grandmother’s right,” Gramps says, one thumb under his suspenders. “We need to see this boy on our own turf. Maybe we can do some hunting. Do you hunt, Ty?”
“Um…”I say, trying to picture myself in a deer blind with a gun in my hand. It’s probably best for everyone if I stay as far away from Gramps as possible.
“Jesus, Dad, don’t scare him,” her mother says, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “It was lovely to meet you Tyler.”
“Thank you for dinner,” I say. “It was nice to meet all of you.” I feel like an actor reciting my lines at the end of a play. Tonight, the regular white boy will be played by none other than Tyler Branch.
“Is two weeks enough time?” Gram says. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
For a brief second I wonder what it would be like to see Jenna in the house where she grew up, walk down to the creek with her, and climb up in the treehouse. I want to see her world, the things she loves. But I know I can never be part of them. I can’t hide the truth forever. “I’ll have to check the game schedule,” I say. “It’s awfully busy this time of year.”
“Right,” Jenna says. “I’ll let you know.”
Gram gives my forearm a light slap. “You’d better. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Having seen the way she deals with her husband, I believe her. Hopefully, Jenna can figure something out.
As we walk toward her car, Jenna grabs my hand and leans into me like you would with someone you’d known for a long time. The feel of her small, soft hand in mine is distracting. “Thanks for doing that,” she says, as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“It was nothing,” I say, opening the car door for her.
We sit in the car and watch the big white truck pull out of the parking lot. I think about Mitch dragging me to the performance and how I had no idea how this night would end. “I never did tell you how amazing you were tonight,” I say, slipping the key in the ignition, but not turning it on. It feels like I’m balancing on the top of a very steep mountain, just waiting for one little push to send me sliding down the side. I shouldn’t get involved with Jenna, now more than ever, when we’ve come to a place that’s more or less okay. “Seriously, it was beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she says, looking out the window into the darkness. Then she turns to me. “Why did you come?”
“Tonight?”
She nods silently.
I take a deep breath, feeling my feet slide out from under me. “Because I wanted to see you.”
“Oh,” she says, but I don’t hear any invitation in her voice. She gives a short laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of supper in Grand Junction. We’ll have a horrible breakup and I’ll have to go home alone to get over you.”
“Why do we break up?” I ask quietly.
Jenna pauses. “Because you kissed me and then didn’t call.” The parking lot lights reflect off the hurt in her eyes as she stares straight ahead. Something twists inside of me that I made her feel this way.
I push down everything I should do and let what I want to do take over as I reach out and turn
her face toward me. “What if I don’t want to break up?”
She hesitates and I see wariness in her eyes, the fact that she doesn’t trust me. And honestly, she shouldn’t. There’s so much I can’t tell her, but maybe I can make sure it doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever it takes, as long as I don’t lose her again.
Chapter Ten (Jenna)
I look into the mirror to fasten the chain around my neck and check my lipstick. I’m totally nervous, which is ridiculous.
“You really want to do this?” Courtney asks, walking up behind me in the bathroom.
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I say.
“How do you know he’s not going to pull the same shit again? It took an entire week for you to stop moping around here after last time.”
“I don’t,” I say. “Which is why we’re taking it slow.” I want to believe it’s going to be different this time, that if we don’t jump into bed together then I won’t get hurt. And I almost have myself convinced. But there’s something about Ty that’s hidden, I can tell. No matter how much we talk and text and send each other funny photos, there’s a part of him that he doesn’t want me to see and I don’t know why. He said that night that there were things I didn’t know about him, but now when I ask him about it he says it was nothing. I’m not buying it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see him. At the moment, I’m not sure I’m capable of staying away.
“It’s your life,” she says, following me out of the bathroom. “But I’m not always going to be here to pick up the pieces.”
“There won’t be any pieces,” I say. “I think he has some commitment issues. You know his mom died when he was young—that does things to a person.”
“He’s also a baseball player. A hot baseball player who’s getting scouted by the pros,” she reminds me. “I’ve done my share of athletes.”
I look at her with my eyebrows raised.
“So to speak,” she continues. “Most of them are just giant egos wrapped in muscles and money.”
“Well, Ty’s not,” I say, checking my bag to make sure I have everything. “He even agreed to drive home with me tomorrow for supper to keep Gram happy.”
“Ah, the fake boyfriend show. Good one.”
I check my reflection in the mirror one more time. “Maybe not so fake by tomorrow.”
There’s a knock on the door and I glance at the clock in the kitchen. Eight o’clock on the dot. He really is trying.
I head for the door but Courtney’s too fast for me. “Yes?” she says, opening it.
“Is Jenna here?” I hear him ask from out in the hall. The team’s been on a four-day road trip and I get a thrill coursing through my body just at the sound of his voice. I almost can’t believe he’s here for me. That we get another chance.
“Depends,” she says, but I push her out of the way before she can screw this up for me.
“Hi,” I say, opening the door wider. He’s wearing a blue t-shirt that makes his eyes look as clear as the Caribbean and he’s holding a big bunch of flowers.
“These are for you,” he says, looking a little sheepish as he hands them to me.
“Thanks,” I say. Besides Stewart at homecoming, I don’t think any guy has ever brought me flowers before.
“I got these,” Courtney says, taking them out of my hands. “I’ll put them in some water. You go.”
Ty looks at her strangely. “I guess we should go then,” he says, and crosses out into the hall.
“Sorry about that,” I say, as we walk down the stairs. He’s going to think that everyone I know is insane. “Courtney’s just a little protective.”
“She cares about you,” he says. “That’s not a bad thing.” We walk through the doors to the parking lot. “Bike or car?”
“Bike,” I say. I wore jeans on purpose. I’ve been thinking about the feeling of riding behind him all week.
“Great,” he grins. We walk over to the bike and he unlocks two helmets, handing one to me.
“You bought helmets?” I ask, tucking my hair into the back of my shirt.
“Yep,” he says, pulling his on. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Thanks,” I say, fastening the strap under my chin.
“Plus, I’ve met your gramps and if I wasn’t already dead from an accident, I’m sure he’d come and kill me.”
“True,” I say, watching as he starts the bike. The night is warm and I can see the edges of his tattoos poking out from the bottom of his short sleeves. The muscles on his arms flex as he kicks the bike to get it started and I get a sudden flash of him shirtless that makes my stomach flip. Good thing we’re taking it slow, because otherwise I’d grab his hand and lead him back up the stairs to my room. Slow. Slow is good.
I climb on behind him and press myself against his back, closer than I need to in order to hang on. I want to run my hands up under his shirt and feel the taut skin of his stomach, but I don’t. Because we’re taking it slow.
We pull out onto the main road, leaning the bike into the turn and when we straighten out, Ty takes one hand off the handlebars and sets it casually on his thigh. I know I shouldn’t, but I reach forward and take it, entwining my fingers with his. I can tell he’s surprised as he glances quickly back at me, then squeezes my hand, puts his back on the handlebars and guns the bike, making it leap forward on the road, the speed and adrenaline making my heart pound.
Too quickly, I see the lights of McCarthy’s to our right, but Ty races by the bar, pulling the throttle as we gain speed. I touch him on the shoulder and point to the building, but he just flashes me an ok sign with his fingers. I guess he has other plans.
The further we get from the university, the fewer cars are on the road and it feels like we’re flying over the small hills and valleys that make up the countryside around Garvin. I have no idea where we’re going and honestly, I don’t care. I could stay right here, on the back of this bike until we hit California.
A few miles outside of town, Ty slows the bike and makes a left turn onto a hard-packed dirt road. We bump over the metal cattle guard, passing a few scrub trees that are on the property on our way up a small hill that rises just ahead of us. After we reach the top, he eases the bike to a stop near the edge and shuts off the motor. The sudden silence is deafening out here in the middle of nowhere.
I slide to the ground, take my helmet off and look around. We’re on the highest spot in the whole valley—the lights of Garvin glow in the distance and I can hear the soft mooing of cows somewhere nearby. “What are we doing here?”
Ty walks up to where I’m standing, his feet crunching on the dirt. “I just wanted to show it to you,” he says. “I found it a couple of weeks ago when I was riding around and I just think it’s a cool spot.”
It’s dark out here and all I can really make out are the darker shadows of the trees on the flatlands below us. I have no idea what he’s talking about. “I guess so.” I glance over at him and see that he’s craning his neck toward the sky and looking straight up.
“Look at all those stars,” he says, his voice soft with awe. “It’s like someone took a paintbrush and spattered a billion white dots across a black canvas.” He points to the right. “See those three in a row? That’s Orion’s belt. And that big mess of stars all in the middle is the Milky Way.” Ty looks back at me. “Those are really the only two that I know.”
I look up at the stars that flow from horizon to horizon. It’s been years since I’ve really stopped and looked at the stars. Gramps has a telescope and we used to load it into his truck when I was little and drive to the furthest spot in the county away from any lights and he’d show me all of the constellations.
“We don’t have stars like this in San Francisco,” Ty says.
“You don’t?” I can’t imagine looking up at the sky and not seeing the glittering shimmer.
“Nope. Too many lights. Even if you get away from the city, there’s an orange glow from all of the streetlights around.” He looks up again.
“They’re nothing like this.”
I take a step toward him, seeing my sky as if for the very first time. “They’re just like this at home,” I say.
“They are?” He looks over at me. “Maybe you can show them to me tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you still want to go?” I’m afraid a whole twenty-four hours together will be weird for him. I want to give him an out.
“Of course. I owe you.”
I smile at that. “You don’t. But thanks—Gram’s never been happier. I’m sure she’s been cooking all week.”
“I consider it an anthropological experiment.” He grins, dimples lighting up his face. “Observing the small town Texas girl in her native environment.”
I laugh. “I’ll try to keep it interesting for you.”
Ty looks at me with one eyebrow raised. “I’ll take you up on that.”
I can feel my face getting hot, so I look back up at the dark sky. I’m doubly conscious of how close he’s standing to me. “See those three stars that look like a triangle right below Orion? That’s Sirius.” I point up higher. “And those four that look like a drunken square over there? That’s Cassiopeia.”
“Cassiopeia,” he repeats. “That’s beautiful.”
“Yep,” I say, staring at the sky.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, looking right at me. I can feel the air shift around us as Ty lifts one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Thank you,” I whisper, afraid to stop whatever’s going on between us. I lift my head to look up at him as his lips graze mine, so softly it almost feels as if I’m imagining it. Ty pulls back and looks at me with a question in his eyes, biting his lip as he waits for an answer. I reach up and pull him back to me as his lips meet mine again, the hesitation gone as he kisses me harder, almost insistent. I feel the tension in his body relax as his lips trail down my neck and down to the hollow of my collarbone.