Tempus

by Tyra Lynn

  Julie’s eyes lit up on the last thing. “What are you gonna wear? Do you know where he’s taking you, yet? If he asks you to be his girlfriend, what are you gonna say?”

  “I don’t know. That’s part of the problem.” Crisis averted, that was a good explanation for my suddenly pensive mood.

  We started walking, and Julie talked non-stop. I wondered how she did it sometimes; I personally needed more air than she seemed to need. I listened as she gave me a million reasons to say yes, assuming he asked, of course. Some were obvious, and some had never crossed my mind. Food for thought.

  As we neared her house, she asked me to give her all my reasons for saying no. None of them were very good. She thought my very best one was totally lame—that maybe I should be ‘free and unfettered’ for my last year of high school. Something suddenly occurred to me.

  “Don’t you think if you have to talk me into it, I mean, doesn’t that say something?” I gave her a ‘yeah, now what-cha got to say’ look, very smug.

  Her face became serious for a moment. “Jessie, Steve is a great guy. I know my judgment is off for myself, but not for you. He would be good for you, I just know it. Whether your dad would admit or not, he knows that too. He wouldn’t worry about you with Steve.”

  I laughed. “Do you see what you’re doing? We have a date, one date. You’re getting me ahead of myself.” That made more sense in my head; I knew what I was trying to say.

  “I’m just saying, keep everything in mind. It isn’t always love at first sight, or all sparks and fireworks and goo-goo gaa-gaa. Love grows, you know. They even write songs about it.” We both laughed.

  We took the porch steps in twos, side-by-side, still laughing. Inside, Julie grabbed her keys off the peg and we scurried through the kitchen where Auntie was cooking something that smelled wonderful. As we were opening the back door, she called for us to stop, and we wheeled around in unison.

  She was holding a wooden spoon filled with something, one hand below to catch any drips. “Try this.” She held it toward us.

  We each took a small taste. “Auntie, that’s delicious!” Julie said, and I nodded in agreement. “What is it?”

  “A stew my mother used to make. I found the recipe in the back of one of her old cookbooks.” She was already turning back to the stove. “Where are you two headed in such a rush?”

  “Mall. B-n-N. Want something?” Asked Julie.

  “Nope. Have fun. Be Careful.”

  Out back, we climbed into Julie’s yellow V.W. It was nice and clean, even after sitting all summer, and Julie looked at me in surprise. “My dad and I took it to the car wash and had it detailed, as a welcome home.” I grinned, and she hugged me. “We had them spray it with lemon. Seemed appropriate.”

  We talked all the way to the mall, avoiding the subject of Steve for a while. After we had parked and gone in, I followed Julie up and down the aisles as she searched for ‘the book.’ I was becoming more aware of the time, and luckily, it didn’t take long for her to find what she was looking for.

  Historical romance, our passion for ‘pleasure’ reading. She was telling me a little about it, but I was only catching bits and pieces, my mind was on my date again.

  “….When the Duke finds out, he goes after her, risking everything! It’s so romantic!”

  “Sounds like a good book.” I said.

  “Have you listened to anything I’ve said?” She asked as she handed the book to the cashier.

  “Yes, I did. Sorry, was just noticing the time. I don’t know what I’m going to wear. I don’t know for sure where we’re going. He said ‘dinner and a movie,’ but that’s what everyone says. Even if they mean ‘hiking and bowling.”

  “If Steve said “dinner and a movie,’ that’s what you better dress for. He’d tell you if it was something else.” She said it with complete confidence.

  “But what kind of dinner?” I hoped it wasn’t too fancy. I didn’t like fancy places with multiple pieces of silverware.

  “Don’t worry, it won’t be too fancy. He likes nice places, but he told me once that, and I quote, ‘A fork is a fork is fork.’ You know, like ‘salad fork’ and ‘dinner fork.’ He thinks it’s stupid, and just leaves more dishes for someone to wash.” She giggled, and I liked Steve just a little more than I had the second before.

  Julie took me straight to my house. I wanted to bathe and redo my makeup before Steve came to pick me up. After saying goodbye, and swearing on my life that I would call her afterwards, I unlocked the door and hurried inside. Everything was a blur all the way to my room. It was easier to endure if I never let my eyes focus.

  My bedroom door was open, and I routinely closed it. I wouldn’t have thought much about it, if not for my earlier experience. I felt as if the notebook was trying to draw my attention, like a magnet draws metal. It was a physical sensation, but I knew it was all in my head. “I don’t have time for you,” I grumbled toward my pillow.

  A bath, a blow-dry, and a new face later I was standing before my new wardrobe, in nothing but a towel, arguing with myself about what I should wear. The time was ticking by in a rush. I grabbed things, tried them on, yanked them off, and threw them in a pile on my bed. I liked everything, but nothing seemed to be exactly what I was looking for. I was getting exasperated!

  Up until now, I had been avoiding a couple of shirts still on hangers, and I knew why. I yanked the black one out, and went to find a fitted black camisole in a drawer. I jerked on a pair of washed out black denim jeans and my boots, letting the towel fall to the floor. I pulled the camisole over my head, and then slid my arms into the crinkled black silk chiffon blouse and began to button the dozen buttons. Why had I bought this!

  As soon as I faced my mirror, I remembered why. The sheer fabric glistened as I turned in the light; the satin trimmed neckline plunged in a deep scoop. It was sleeveless, with the exception of soft ruffles lightly brushing my shoulders, and the bottom had ruffle-edged trim, barely falling below the upper edge of my waistband. If I were to reach up, my stomach would show.

  I was glad these pants were made of stretchy fabric, if I ate much, it wouldn’t hurt so bad. Guys always complained that girls wouldn’t eat in front of them, and that’s why. Either we eat well and squish ours stomach, or stay a little hungry. We mostly choose the latter option.

  It was getting close to six-thirty, and I had expected Dad to be here by now. I never worried about my dad, but you could typically set your watch by him. There were sometimes exceptions, but not often. I grabbed my phone and called the store, it had closed at six.

  I waited for the machine to pick up and said “Dad, it’s Jessie. Pick up if you’re there.” I heard the unmistakable sound of the phone being jostled.

  “Jessie!” It was Dad’s voice. “I was going to call you, but I knew you would be getting ready to go out.”

  “Why are you still at the store this late?” I asked.

  “Like I said, I knew you’d be busy getting ready. I thought I would head over to Vivienne's about seven and eat there since you won’t be home anyway. I figured I’d use my time wisely until then and finish cataloging some things.” His voice had just enough of an odd sound that I noticed.

  “Is everything okay?” I wasn’t alarmed, but I was curious.

  “Fine, fine. Have a good time with Steve tonight, and don’t get in too late, okay?”

  “Sure, Dad, it won’t be late. Just having dinner and a movie, I think.”

  “Be careful, and I love you.” His voice sounded slightly emotional.

  “I love you, too, Dad. Bye.” I hung up and wondered what was bothering him. Something was. My guess would be that he was worried about me going out with Steve. My further guess would be that he remembered how I acted after that birthday.

  We had gotten in a big fight the next day because I refused to go to the store with him. I didn’t want to go, because I didn’t want to have to face Steve. I also refused to tell him why I wouldn’t go, for two days at least. When I went on th
e third day with no fuss at all, he figured out a little about the problem. He asked me what Steve had done to me. I couldn’t let Steve get in trouble for something he didn’t do, so I confessed the whole, humiliating incident.

  He had tried hard not to laugh, and he didn’t laugh, specifically. He had chuckled, but not in a degrading way. What he did do was much worse. He tried to explain the birds and the bees and relationships and love. I tried to explain I had learned it all in health class, but he was unrelenting. It was awful.

  I started downstairs and had just reached the bottom landing when I heard a vehicle pull in. It wasn’t the Monster. I rushed to the door to see who it was, no one else was supposed to be stopping by. It was Steve!

  I hurried outside, locking up, and waited on the steps. I was surprised to see the Toyota. I realized for the first time why he never really drove it anymore—he took up most of the front seat! I smiled at him, and shook my head a little as he climbed out. He wasn’t quite six feet tall, but it still looked like he had to unfold to get out. It was adorable.

  As he came around the front of the truck, I got a good look at him. His hair was spiky as usual, and he had on a pair of dark sunglasses, which he removed and placed on his head. He was wearing a fitted black on black striped button up, the top two buttons undone, and the long sleeves rolled up neatly below the elbow. His dark jeans were close fitting, but not tight, and his black boots were polished. His green eyes were shining as he smiled.

  “Twins,” he said as he stepped up one step, embraced me, and whispered, “You look beautiful.”

  “So do you,” I sighed, and then realized what I’d said. “I mean, you look great.”

  “I tried.” He walked me down the steps and to the truck, opening the door for me. He gave me a quick kiss before closing the door, going around, and getting in. Once inside I realized he wasn’t quite as squished as he appeared from the outside, but the Toyota didn’t have nearly as much room as the Monster.

  “Why did you drive this?” I wanted to know.

  “I thought we would drive down to Springfield and have a steak dinner at Longhorns. I remembered you had a hard time getting into the Monster the last time we ate, so I figured I would make it easier for you this time. Is Steak okay with you?”

  Points for thoughtfulness. “I love a good steak! You know, I haven’t been to Longhorns since Mom died, that was one of her favorite places. Dad won’t go back.”

  “We can go somewhere else if you want to, if it bothers you. Pick any place, your wish is my command.” He seemed to be worried he might have done something wrong.

  “No, Longhorns would be great, seriously. I’ve wanted to go, but Dad makes excuses why we can’t, so I quit asking. I didn’t think I’d get to eat there again until I moved out.”

  He looked at me for a moment, and then said, “You can sit in the middle if you want. I’ll even buckle you in.”

  I scooted over to the center of the seat and let him reach around me for the belt. He smelled so good; I couldn’t help but breathe in deeply through my nose when he leaned in front of me. He noticed, and turned his head to face me, gently brushing my lips with his. My tummy fluttered.

  “We better get going,” he said, sounding a little breathy.

  “Yes, we better,” I echoed, my voice even weaker than his.

  CHAPTER IX

  Think’st thou existence doth depend on time?

  —Lord Byron

  We made it to Longhorns by seven and it took half an hour to get a table. It was just as I remembered; only it seemed smaller. We laughed about how, as we got older, perspectives changed; the irony wasn’t lost on either of us.

  The Restaurant was unusually busy, and it took a while to get our food. By the time it arrived, we were ravenous, and by the time we were finished, I was grateful Steve had driven the Toyota. I was so full that, once we were inside and I was buckled in the truck, all I could think about was how much I wanted to unbutton my jeans, stretchy or not. I fought the urge, but it wasn’t easy.

  It had taken so long to be seated and eat that we arrived at the theater late. If we rushed, we could probably make it before the movie started. Neither one of us was in a hurry, though. We just sat in the truck, feeling bloated, and laughing about it.

  “Maybe steak wasn’t such a brilliant idea for a first date,” said Steve.

  “No, it was great. Maybe starving before eating wasn’t a good idea, though. You’re going to think I’m a pig, but in my defense, I haven’t eaten much all day. I’m bad about that; I’m kind of all or nothing. They say that’s really unhealthy—starving and bingeing. I don’t do it on purpose.”

  “I do that sometimes, but it’s usually because I’m busy and can’t eat. I stuff myself to make up for it,” he laughed. “So are we going to try to catch any of the movie, or do you want to do something else?”

  “Hmm. I think I want to do something else. Sitting still in a theater doesn’t sound fun, except maybe I could stretch out.” I patted my stomach, “My jeans shrunk a size back there.”

  “Mine too,” he agreed. “Well, I could take you home if you want.” I shook my head. “Or we could go rent something to watch at my place. You haven’t even seen inside it. It’s small, but I like it.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” I was curious about his place. I’d only seen it from the outside once, when Dad stopped by for something. I don’t remember what.

  “It’s a plan, then.”

  We drove back to Era, stopped in at Video to Go for a couple of new releases, and drove to Steve's place. It was a small guesthouse, which he rented from the McLemores. It sat on the back of the property, a good distance from the main house. He even had his own driveway off North Sycamore.

  It was a square, four-roomed house with a diamond shaped center hall, a living room, bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen. Steve took care of all the maintenance, of course. He had even built small porches on both the front and the back. It wasn’t fancy, but it was neat and tidy, outside and in.

  The living room had a dark grey chair and sofa, a coffee table, and a small entertainment center. The television was nice, as was the stereo, which was no surprise. I noticed the DVD player on a shelf, and below that, a Play Station Three. I would never have guessed Steve for a gamer.

  As he showed me around, I noticed there weren’t a lot of decorations, but everything was tasteful, and it didn’t have that ‘unfinished’ look that so many places did. Overall, I liked it, and it felt cozy.

  While Steve put in a DVD, I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I didn’t spend much time, but wanted to check my face and hair. Everything was still acceptable, so I washed my hands and returned to the living room.

  Steve was sitting on the sofa when I returned. The only light was from the flickering television, the DVD menu playing, and it made his eyes sparkle. He patted the space beside him, so I walked over and sat down. He put his arm around me, and pulled my head over on his chest. “You can stretch out if you want, if you’ll be more comfortable.”

  I didn’t want to put my boots on the sofa, so I slipped them off before extending my legs and burying my feet between the cushion and the arm. I was so comfortable, but I could tell Steve wasn’t.

  “Do you want to change?” I asked him. “If you do, I don’t mind. I would if I could.”

  “No, I have a better idea, if it’s okay.” He looked at me, so I shrugged. “Hop up.”

  I stood up and Steve stretched out on the sofa, turning sideways. He barely fit. He got up, held up a finger, and ducked into the bedroom, returning a moment later holding up a pillow like a trophy. He put it on one end, stretched back out on the sofa, and raised an arm for me to join him. There wasn’t much room left for me.

  I lay down and he pulled me up against him. Once we settled in, I was incredibly comfortable. I snuggled back while he pushed the play button and started the movie. I wondered if he could see over my head, but I could feel his face against my hair, hear him take deep, deliberate bre
aths, and realized he probably didn’t care.

  I wasn’t paying any attention to the movie. Steve had started caressing my face and ear with his free hand, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. I was being lulled into a stupor, and didn’t mind one bit. Except it made me sleepy. Very, very sleepy. I tried to force my eyes to stay open, but they refused.

  “Jessie. Jessie. Wake up.”

  Someone was talking to me in my dream. It sounded like Steve, but I couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from. I was turning every direction, but I didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Jessie, I have to take you home.”

  My eyes fluttered open, and for just a second, I didn’t know where I was. I almost jumped up, but Steve kept his arm around me, and breathed in my ear.

  “I’ve got to take you home, it’s late.”

  I remembered where I was, who I was with, and why. I had fallen asleep! I tried to sit up, and this time Steve helped me. In a panic, I checked my chin for drool. Nothing was there, thankfully.

  “I’m sorry. I was so comfortable and my eyes were so heavy.” I yawned, and then wondered how my breath was. I was making a terrible impression. I started to rub my eyes, but remembered I had on makeup. At least I had before I fell asleep, now I wasn’t sure.

  “It’s ok, I dozed off too. We’re lucky I woke up when I did. We won’t be late, but we’re cutting it close.” He stood up and stretched, walking toward to kitchen. “You thirsty?”

  “Very!” As he went into the kitchen, I checked my breath in my hand. I was safe, but my mouth felt icky.

  He brought me a coke, and I gladly took a big drink, trying to swish the bubbles around my mouth a little without being obvious. It was so cold, wet, and delicious, and the bubbles popping felt good on my tongue. “Wonderful,” I said after I swallowed.

  “I had a great time,” he smiled. “Hope I’m not too boring for you.”

  “Not at all. I just haven’t slept well the last few nights.” I didn’t say why.