by Devon Ashley
I pretended to think on it. I knew he was as bad off as I was, feeling the way he throbbed against me. “Tell you what. I’ll make a deal with you. If you forfeit the game and declare me the winner so that I get to claim the dessert later, I’ll bend over this bed and let you take me right now.”
Duh… Of course he took the deal.
Now that should be declared the leading definition for bleh-heh-heh. It was another weekend he left me aching (which I kept to myself this time), but it got him past the delusion that I was too delicate to play hard with. The rest of February went by in a blur and March crept up out of nowhere. Except for that time Evan took me sledding at a more friendly slope so I could practice my steering, we pretty much stayed indoors, ‘cause it was just too freakin’ cold out. No wonder there was always a baby boom every fall. Couples getting snowed in for several months tended to stay in the bedroom a lot, and a college guy like Evan in his sexual prime was no exception. And as much as he tried to sway my decision, I wouldn’t play our little game again, forcing him to wait until another special occasion. But it was cute the way he continued to beg.
After our special little romp, I pretty much spent every night at his place, just returning home in the morning to shower and change and do the whole day over again. It was nice to call his place home and fall asleep in his arms, but it forced me to endure an endless collection of movies from the eighties. Seriously, I would’ve thought I’d seen them all by now, but he always managed to find another one. Their crazy colored outfits and too-much-hair-product hairstyles made me really grateful I wasn’t a teenager in that decade.
As we were lying there watching The Lost Boys, he casually mentioned, “I don’t think I can hold my mom off much longer.”
I chuckled, completely amused that he was still embarrassed for us to spend time together. Seriously, the woman wasn’t that bad compared to my last boyfriend’s mother, who I thought could’ve given Faye Dunaway a run for her money for the leading role in Mommie Dearest. “I don’t know what you’re worried about. Afraid she’s gonna tell me something about your past that’s gonna make me up and run? ‘Cause I should tell you that you please me sexually, so it’ll take one hell of a whammy to knock me off this pedestal you’ve put me on.”
Smiling, he kissed my forehead. “Well, she does have plenty of ammo in the ways of awkward childhood photos I could go the rest of my life without you seeing.”
“Just set it up and get it over with. Otherwise she might decide to pop up here one night.” I turned my head from the comfortable crook between his arm and chest to face him. “Does she know I stay here every night?”
He shook his head. “They know you work six days a week and get off late, and they know I go to meet you afterwards. But since their bedroom is on the other side of the house and it’s late by the time we come home after dinner, it’s unlikely they’ve ever noticed you coming up here with me.
“Unless they’re able to hear your screams when we go at it,” he added with a smirk. “But the way you scream, moan and whimper all at the same time, it’s well worth the risk.”
It wasn’t easy, but I totally ignored his attempt to rile me up in hopes of getting physical. “Just out of curiosity, am I even allowed up here?”
“I’m turning twenty-one next week, Jenna. They hardly think I’m a virgin, but I don’t exactly go around advertising that you’re sleeping here all the same.”
“Alright. Well, I’d like to celebrate your birthday next Sunday alone, so how about sometime in the next few weeks?”
His hand crept up my side like a spider, making its way to my breast without meeting resistance, though I eyed it all the way. “You know what we’re going to do that night, right?” he asked, right before squeezing me. I yelped and tried to fight him off, but it was a half-assed attempt on my part. “We need to come up with a name for that game too.”
“What, like Five Card Strip?”
“Lame. How about Texas Lick ‘Em?”
“Gross. We’ll work on it.”
It was five o’clock when I rolled the cart to the edge of the Young Adult section, which happened to face the help desk and most central part of the store, getting ready to go through and reshelve the books – the young adults were the worst at putting them back by author name. I had made it all the way through the B’s before I felt the hairs sticking out on the back of my neck. I was getting that pesky feeling that I was being watched. I turned and scanned all the people I could see, but no one appeared to be paying any attention to me. Except this one creepy middle-aged guy that slipped out the front door and disappeared down the avenue once I caught him.
But the feeling was still there. At first my hand played with my chin, but eventually made its way to my neck. I caught myself after a few seconds ‘cause it was fingering nothing but air. Damn it! I really needed to buy a new necklace.
I gave up on watching the crowd after a minute, even though I still couldn’t shake the feeling. By the time I finished the E’s, two hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me back into their owner. Familiar lips skimmed my neck and whispered, “Princess.”
All smiles, I rotated myself within Evan’s grasp, answering, “Hey,” then pecked him quickly on the lips. Knowing Mr. Rockwell had already left for the night, I wasn’t too worried about the public display of affection and allowed myself to be wrapped within a snug cocoon.
“You still planning on coming over tonight?” he asked.
“Absolutely. Why?”
“Because my dad needs two people followed tonight. He gave me the one he thinks will be an easier catch, but I still may not get off in time to pick you up.”
“Okay. Want me to just go home?”
“God, no.” He pulled the keys out of his pocket and placed them in my hand. “I’m going to use my mom’s car tonight, so I’m leaving you mine. It’s parked off to the right. Just head to my place and let yourself in. I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
Trying to laugh off my concern, I said, “You want me to drive your truck in the snow? Without insurance?” I added with tone, since he’d given me such a hard time about it that day I wanted to shop solo.
“You’ll be fine. Just drive slow. I’ve got to go.” He turned back before he even got two steps. Leaning close, he whispered, “Get your rest, because you’re going to need it when we celebrate my birthday tomorrow.”
A smile as wide as the Cheshire cat’s spread across my face. I smacked his hand as he squeezed the skin beneath my ticklish rib, then he hurried out the door. I waved at him through the glass as he hopped inside the passenger side of a waiting car, which I assumed was his father’s. Funny thing was, once he was gone, that feeling of being watched still lingered. And maybe if I had actually taken the time to really think about it, I would’ve realized it was Robert watching me that night.
For Evan’s (belated) birthday celebration, we went to BoJoe’s to let him buy his first legal drink. Of course, Joseph gave it to him on the house, but at least it still qualified as being legal. My fake ID proved to be useful yet again, thank you very much, Sophie Zawinski. Sunday night was kinda slow at the bar, so we were able to play pool in the private room by ourselves. I sucked it up and let him tease me a bit over a game…since it was his birthday and all. And since it was his night, I let him cheat at what I allowed him to call Texas Lick ‘Em for just one night, and skipped straight to the desserts for our kinky little game. I knew eventually we’d complete the game before giving into temptation, but alas, we were currently oh-for-two.
I found myself having to drive the truck to Evan’s a lot. I guess the end of winter and the beginning of spring made a few people stray from their spouse’s bed, ‘cause Evan and his father had a lot of requests to follow people suspected of adultery. So I guessed the cat was probably out of the bag that I was staying in Evan’s room a lot, which meant we couldn’t push off dinner anymore.
The second Sunday in April, Evan pulled me through the back door of the house, through the mudr
oom and out into the breakfast room. The kitchen was off to the left, and my senses were assaulted with so many flavors I was practically salivating right there.
“Oh, my God, that smells good,” I said privately to Evan, eyeing the crock pot.
“Yeah, my mom is an awesome cook.”
The kitchen was painted a buttery yellow with green and dark red country accents that mostly involved chicken wire and roosters, which I found completely odd for someone up north, but loved nonetheless. Their living room off to the right was in shades of blue and looked really comfortable, the complete opposite of how I always felt in Robert’s parents’ home, which was so pristine and immaculate you’d think it was a museum display or something.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Evan’s mom cheered, coming through the door on the opposite end of the kitchen, which I could see had a formal dining table in it. She wore an apron that wrapped around her neck and tied behind that fell almost to her knees, covering up what was probably her Sunday church dress. I kinda felt a little underdressed at that moment, with me in a cable knit sweater and slim fitted jeans. I would’ve given Evan a hard time for it, but he was dressed as casually as I was.
“Jenna! I’ve finally convinced my son to share you a little with the family.” She leaned in next to my ear, but hardly whispered when she said, “I’m afraid he thinks I’ll scare you off.”
A small roll of laughter came out of me as Evan rolled his eyes.
“Mom…” Evan whined. “I do not. Jenna only gets one day a week off and she’s usually running her errands then.” Well, sorta. Truthfully, Evan drives me and we generally got those done pretty quickly, leaving ample time to spend the afternoon cuddled up in one another’s arms.
She ignored him and asked me, “Jenna, could I get your help in the kitchen for a bit? Maddy is at a friend’s house and won’t be home for another hour.”
“Oh.” That’s all I could seem to say. Cooking? Me?
“Mom…”
“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “I could try to help, but honestly, I don’t know anything about cooking that doesn’t involve microwaving mac and cheese and instant potatoes.”
I ignored Evan’s laughter but found it funny when his mother lightly smacked the back of his head. “Get out of my kitchen and go watch sports with your father.”
He looked to me for approval, not wanting to leave me behind if I was gonna kill him for it later. It must’ve been a really good game if he was considering leaving me with his mother alone, since he’d been fighting this dinner for so long. “You heard your mother.”
Amused, he kissed me on the cheek and disappeared into the next room, where his father offered me a quick wave from the recliner. “Uh, what would you like me to do, Mrs. Gilden?”
“Oh, stop. You’re old enough to call me Marie. And Mrs. Gilden makes me feel my age.”
I chuckled as I wrapped the red and white checkered apron around my waist that she had passed my way. “Alright, Marie. Something I can’t screw up, please.”
“Well, you can skin and cube the potatoes for me. And afterwards I’ll let you boil and mash them too.” She carried a bag of potatoes from the pantry to the counter beside the sink and grabbed the peeler from a drawer. Quietly beside me, she added, “Then maybe you can skip the instant from now on.”
“Just promise you’ll check behind me every step, ‘cause I tend to set off smoke alarms every time I try to cook something.” I grabbed my first potato and began skinning. I wasn’t very good at it and it took awhile to find my groove. I also managed to cut a sliver of my skin, but refused to publicize my idiocy and just winced in silence.
I chit-chatted with Marie over the course of an hour. Evan had filled her in on my lack of parents growing up, but the way she worded all her questions seemed heartfelt, so it didn’t make me uncomfortable discussing it for once. She also took the time to walk me through cooking the mashed potatoes and didn’t make me feel silly for asking questions, like how she knew how much milk to add, since she had me pour without measuring. Evan made several unnecessary trips to the kitchen to check up on me, and I loved him for it.
Maddy, or Madeline, came home just in time to set the table. She was nine and so freakin’ cute with her long brown hair braided down the back, and warm brown eyes that matched her mother’s. She watched me all through dinner with tiny smiles here and there, seemingly shy. Mr. Gilden was mostly quiet too, letting Marie, Evan and I carry on the conversation, and only spoke when discussing the work he and Evan shared.
My mashed potatoes were a big hit. Okay, they were hard to mess up when you knew how to make them, but if I was asked to make those a week ago without Marie’s guidance, trust me, I totally would’ve found a way to screw them up. And they hardly compared to how delicious the Salisbury steak was that she made, but I wasn’t gonna let that ruin my jovial mood over finally cooking something from scratch without destroying it.
“You know, Jenna,” Marie mentioned as she, Maddy and I were clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen, “if you’d like to learn to cook a few things, you’re welcome to come over and help me prepare the Sunday meals.”
“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
She waved me off, skimming the skin of my arm with the kitchen towel she swung, and I could just hear the pish-posh going off in her head. “Of course not. If you’d like to learn, I’ll happily teach you what I can.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll probably take you up on that.” Evan silently laughed to himself, clearly in on a joke I didn’t get until we left a few minutes later. “Alright, what? What am I missing?”
“It’s nothing. But she just managed to get you to agree to come by every weekend from now on. She’s very subtle at getting her way.”
“What do you mean, her way?”
“It’s so cute how naïve you are about my mom. I’m not saying it’s anything bad, but she’s been bugging me forever to get you over there, and she knew I’d make her wait a long time before I agreed to it again, so she slipped in a way to get you there without involving me.”
I kissed him on the cheek. “It’s not the end of the world, ya’ know. Unless you’re just looking to avoid going, and if you are, I won’t mind staying home with you.”
He opened the door to his room and locked it behind us. “No, I’m fine with it if you are.”
Good. ‘Cause it was nice to hang out with a group that actually seemed to have a positive family dynamic, and didn’t require drinking themselves to death just to put up with one another.
Through the month of April, I took Marie up on her offer. Each weekend she taught me something new, and I learned how to successfully make a sweet potato casserole, grilled mixed vegetables, herb-rubbed oven-roasted potatoes, beef stew, and Italian meatballs. And I did a little happy dance, ‘cause they all ended up not only edible, but delicious. Who knew with a little guidance, I could actually make these things? And I suddenly found myself perusing the cooking section at the bookstore, eyeing a few cookbooks I wouldn’t mind getting once I had a place with a kitchen meant for cooking.
In May, I received my first cookbook, which Marie gave me for my birthday, and said it was perfect for a beginner. I took her word for it and was pleased to see it was one I’d already been eyeing. Evan, however, took me to BoJoe’s that Friday night to get us a few drinks, then surprised me Saturday morning by driving me out of town for the rest of the weekend to a bed and breakfast on the coast of Maine. He had even secretly worked it out with my boss ahead of time to give me the day off. My favorite part of the trip was the picnic we had on the beach beside the lighthouse, where we seemed to be only ones for miles.
Coming back to that shoebox of a room afterwards was a disappointment. Not to mention the lack of sand I’d always wanted since I was a little orphan girl getting shuffled from one hell hole to the next. But, oh well. Back to normal. One day I’d get that beach on a permanent basis.
The week after my birthday I had to take that really long bus ride
to Philadelphia for Sophie’s bridal shower. I couldn’t believe how quickly the months flew by. After breaking up with Robert, I thought that time would feel suffocating and neverending, but when Evan slowly invaded my life, the complete opposite became true. Sophie’s wedding was now just six weeks away.
At the shower, I officially met Dana, Sophie’s cousin, who had basically taken on all of my responsibilities, and I couldn’t thank her enough for doing so. The shower was held at some posh tea room, and was gorgeously decorated with pale pink peonies, light silver linens, and some of the prettiest crystal and china dishes I had ever seen. I also met Annette, Jhett’s mother, and got to catch up with Sophie’s mom, who still to that day took an active interest in every detail of my life, just like she did with Sophie. She was the closest thing I had to a mom and I loved that she asked me to just start calling her Mom, too. (I think she just realized her only baby was getting married, and needed another daughter to take on, but I didn’t mind). I just hoped my current situation didn’t secretly disappoint her, ‘cause I knew how much she wanted me back in school so I could finish my degree.
Sophie was a little tiffed that I didn’t take off the entire weekend so we could have an extra day together, but I had already done that with Evan, and just couldn’t afford to do it more than once a month. Sadly, my job wasn’t helping me save too much money, and I was actively applying for scholarships again to see if I would even be able to afford Rutgers next fall.
June came out of nowhere and smacked me in the face as suddenly as the warm weather did. But at least we got to spend most of our time outdoors now. We’d already seen two of the movies in the park, The Wizard of OZ and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, and when Evan pulled me towards the woods afterward with a wink and a lopsided grin, I knew exactly where he was taking me. The hike was a hell of a lot longer in reality than dreamland, but stargazing from our spot in the middle of the nowhere was well worth the blisters I got on the back of my heels.