Capturing Jessica

by Jane Hardee

  The action pulled her T-shirt tight over her breasts and revealed a small patch of smooth porcelain skin above the waistband of her shorts. Michael could not help but stare. She stood and took one step closer to Jess. She hadn’t intended to stand, but Jess’s body called to her in some elemental way. Shoving her hands low into the pockets of her jeans, Michael didn’t know what to say. Jess took a step forward too. They were only a foot apart.

  Jess reached up and placed her hand on Michael’s shoulder over her T-shirt. It was common for Jess to touch people when she talked, but Michael was struck by the intimacy of the gesture. Her skin burned where Jess’s thumb caressed the bare skin of her collarbone.

  “Are you coming?”

  It wouldn’t take much…

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Michael glanced at the tumbler. “Just want to finish my drink.”

  When she heard Jess shut the upstairs door, Michael collapsed back into her chair. What am I going to do?

  *

  Jess awoke feeling rested for the first time in weeks. Something about being back in Dogwood Bluff always put her body and mind at ease. She rolled over and stretched her arms as she glanced at the clock. It was eleven thirty and she wondered if Michael and Annabel were home yet. As she thought of Michael, she turned her head to the pillow resting next to hers. By nature, she was what her mother called a “messy sleeper,” waking up with the sheets in a tangle and pillows everywhere. Had Michael ever come to bed?

  Jess had stayed awake as long as she could, waiting for Michael. It was surprising that she had even wanted to be awake when Michael’s body slipped between the sheets. It would have been much easier if she were asleep for such a sensuous scene. She was ashamed for even thinking anything sexual while sleeping in Michael’s house, but still the thoughts had continued. The last time she had looked at the clock, it was a quarter after midnight.

  When she’d entered the den the previous night, and Michael mentioned sleeping together, Jess spat out a provocative comment without thinking. It was unlike her to ever say anything sexual to Michael. Michael had stiffened slightly, and Jess wondered if she had gone too far. In the light of day, she regretted the comment, but last night it had felt good to ruffle Michael’s feathers a little.

  Forcing herself from the warmth of the sheets, she headed to the bathroom for a long shower. After dressing and drying her hair, she headed downstairs to see if Michael had returned from her errands.

  “Hi, Cricket,” she said, as he trotted over to her when she entered the kitchen.

  Annabel had left a note saying there was a plate waiting in the oven. Jess began salivating as soon as she opened the oven door. Scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, homemade biscuits, and sausage links. How on earth had Michael been able to keep her figure all through high school? After pouring some orange juice, she headed to the front porch with Cricket. He bounded down the steps and began rolling around in the sunshine, making grunting noises. Jess sat down on the warm wooden porch steps and breathed deeply as she stared out into the yard. Then she lifted her face to the warm sunlight.

  The neighbors’ homes were visible, but something about the open expanse of land on all sides of the house made Jess feel like she was miles away from anyone. A glorious feeling. One she didn’t get much in the bustle of Atlanta. Picking up her fork, she began to devour her breakfast.

  *

  “You’re quiet this morning, dear,” Annabel said, as she pulled the large truck out of the hardware store parking lot. They had visited Hopper’s Hardware to pick up some paint that Annabel had ordered to use on her new garden trellis.

  “Just glad to be home,” Michael replied.

  “Is it my imagination, or did my daughter spend the night in an old wingback chair with an empty brandy glass on the table next to her?”

  Michael continued to stare out the window. “I guess I just fell asleep. It’s a comfortable chair, Mom.”

  “Oh, my mistake. I thought maybe it had something to do with Jess sleeping in your bed.”

  “It’s just…I’m not comfortable.”

  “Darling, I know you think I stuck you two together on purpose, but I didn’t. This will always be your home, and I would never want you to feel uncomfortable here.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Mom. This is my problem. I’ll work through it.”

  “What’s to work through? I know you’re going to say it’s not like that, and it’s none of my business, but did you ever consider that you and Jess just might be right for each other?” Annabel placed her hand on Michael’s arm as she pulled to a stop sign.

  “We’re not.” Michael could hear the bitterness in her voice.

  It was close to two o’clock by the time they got home. Annabel went inside to freshen up, and Michael unloaded the paint and potting soil to carry to the backyard. As she rounded the corner of the house, she had to readjust the large bag of soil resting on her shoulder just as her eyes settled on Jess across the yard.

  Jess stood leaning on the split rail fence facing the large vacant property behind the house. Her hair blew in the breeze, and she held a small bouquet of wildflowers. She was barefoot, wearing a yellow sundress with small white polka dots. She looked completely relaxed and at home. Because Jess faced the opposite direction, Michael was afforded a brief moment just to appreciate her beauty.

  Almost as if Jess sensed her watching, she turned slowly and her face lit up. Michael nodded and resumed her trek to the back of the house. Jess ran over to Michael, with Cricket fast on her heels.

  “Hey,” she said, stopping right in front of Michael.

  Jess looked as beautiful as she had ever seen her. Her cheeks were pink from the sun, and her hair continued to caress her face in the breeze. The sundress left her arms bare, and Michael wanted to touch, or at least sketch, the smooth lines of her shoulders. She couldn’t pull her eyes away, let alone support a fifty-pound bag of potting soil, and her knees threatened to give way.

  Michael placed the bag of soil next to Annabel’s small vegetable garden and rubbed Cricket’s warm, floppy ear.

  “Did you have a good morning?” Michael asked. While she had been lost in thought and distracted so far during their mini-vacation, she’d forgotten that this was also time away for Jess, and she wanted her to enjoy it.

  “Absolutely. I can’t wait to go to the cove. It’s a great day for a swim.”

  “Right. The cove. Mom said she will have the picnic packed soon.”

  “Will she be coming too?”

  Would Jess be disappointed to learn they would be going alone? “No. She’s anxious to get some things done around the house.”

  “Okay, just us. Like old times,” Jess joked for the second time since they had arrived.

  As Michael watched Jess retreat into the house, she went back to the truck to continue unloading. Just like old times. The old times when they would go to Jacob’s Cove alone and Michael would revel in Jess’s innocence and beauty.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  About an hour later, they headed north in Annabel’s blue pickup through the winding roads of Dogwood Bluff. When they were young, Annabel would drive them to the cove early in the summer mornings and come back in the afternoon to pick them up. They stayed all day, swimming, laughing, and sharing dreams for the future. It was a place where the two of them could relax alone together, and Michael cherished the memories and still thought of them often.

  “What’s got you smiling?” Jess leaned over and poked Michael in the ribs.

  “I was thinking about the time we were at the cove, and I told you I was accepted at SCAD. I hadn’t even told my mom yet. You were so excited.”

  “Of course I was. It was your dream,” Jess said, looking out the window as Michael turned right on Magnolia Lane.

  The road wasn’t paved and the ride was bumpy as they drove deeper into the woods. Michael slowed to a stop at the point where they would have to hike for several minutes to get to the falls that flowed into the small lake.


  “I can’t believe we’re are here again,” Jess said.

  “I wonder if you will think it’s changed much.” Michael lifted her backpack from the bed of the truck and hefted it onto her shoulders. “Do you remember the way?” She pointed to the faded path next to the truck. They had not been to the cove together in at least six years.

  Several minutes later she heard Jess’s sharp intake of breath as the small waterfall came into view.

  “It’s as beautiful as ever.” Jess squealed as she picked up speed to run toward the smooth grassy area next to the shore of the lake. The cove was crowded with mature black walnut trees, shading nearly every part of the shore and the water. It was a peaceful area with a cavernous feel because of the pockets of sunshine peeking through the branches.

  Michael followed Jess down the bank and unpacked their picnic while Jess took off her sandals and dipped her feet into the cool water. The small waterfall at the head of the lake sparkled and added a soothing sound that Michael found relaxing. The rope swing they had hung from a large branch still swayed back and forth in the breeze. As Michael rolled out an old quilt, Jess began to rummage through the backpack for the items Annabel had packed.

  “Well, well, well. What have we here?” Jess asked with a bit of shock in her voice.

  Michael looked at the bottle of wine and felt embarrassed by Annabel’s gesture. What was she trying to do? Make this like a date or something?

  “Well, maybe she got it as a gift. She doesn’t drink much.”

  “Was she kind enough to pack a corkscrew?” Jess asked, giggling as she handed Michael the bottle and continued pulling items from the bag.

  After the generous amount of food was spread across the quilt, Jess poured white wine into the plastic red cups Annabel had packed. Chicken salad, homemade biscuits, fruit, and even brownies were among the goodies. Michael piled two paper plates high with food and handed one to Jess.

  “To being friends for life,” Jess said, lifting her red cup in a toast.

  “Friends for life,” Michael repeated and took a long swallow of wine.

  Michael was surprised how easily the conversation flowed during their meal, but then again she had always felt so relaxed here. The wine helped too. It wasn’t long before the food was gone and the wine bottle empty. After finishing lunch, she stretched out on her side and propped her head in her hand. Jess sat with her legs crossed, leaning against a walnut tree.

  “What do you want in your future, Michael?” Jess asked, moving to face Michael and mirror her position, one delicate, manicured hand resting under her dark hair.

  Michael stared for a moment, not sure how Jess expected her to answer.

  Jess must have sensed her confusion because she went on. “I’ve seen you with a few women. But…no one serious. Why not? Why don’t you have someone special?”

  “Too busy. What about you? Do you see yourself with someone?” The second the words left her mouth, Michael regretted them.

  “Yeah. You know, I’d like to meet someone someday.” Jess let her hand drop and leaned back as she began to elaborate. “Someone strong and capable. Someone with compassion. Someone fun. And someone who worships the ground I walk on.” The last bit was said as Jess jumped up and ran toward the water.

  Michael did not respond as Jess scurried away. Why did Jess’s words strike a raw nerve in her? Was it because that was the phrase Camille used to describe Michael’s feelings for Jess? Or was it because it confirmed the fact that Michael could never give Jess all the things she so deserved? Well, the worshiping part I know I can handle.

  Jess pulled her yellow dress over her head and dropped it to the ground. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so Michael was treated to an exquisite view of the cream-colored skin of her back. As Jess hurried to the water, she pulled her panties down and stepped out of them. Michael turned her eyes away. She had enough haunting images of Jess without the memory of her naked skin to crowd her mind. Michael concentrated on running her finger over the circular quilt stitch on the blanket.

  “It feels great! Come on, Michael!” Jess squealed and splashed her arms around in the water. Michael held her breath and looked up, relieved to find the deep water covered Jess’s body.

  Taking her time to stand, Michael realized there was little she could do to avoid this situation. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

  Michael grabbed the collar of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. She was not embarrassed to be naked in front of Jess. As a matter of fact, she’d much rather be nude in front of Jess instead of the reverse. She would rather ride the MARTA nude than be this close to Jess’s naked body.

  Her hands shook as she reached for her belt buckle and removed her jeans. Leaving her briefs and sports bra in place to avoid any more naked skin between them than necessary, she stepped into the water and waded to the middle near where Jess floated, her legs and arms stretched. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. The water felt great. Maybe if she mentally cataloged her sculpting tools she could maintain some semblance of control.

  “Come on over here, Michael. I remember when we couldn’t even stand in this part.” Jess bobbed in the middle of the small lake and raised her arms above her head. The huge smile indicated how proud she was that she could touch the bottom. The tops of her breasts were exposed and Michael repeated under her breath. Point chisel. Pneumatic hammer.

  Michael swam toward Jess and realized the water really wasn’t as deep as she had thought as a child. Jess dipped below the water, and a moment later her shapely legs pointed upward as she did a handstand. With Jess’s head below the water, Michael had the opportunity to openly stare without being caught. Michael had seen, drawn, and sculpted hundreds of legs, but none had ever caused such an instant stab of arousal in her. Mini stone flat chisel. Rondel chisel. Tooth chisel.

  Jess swam toward her under the water and appeared in front of Michael a few feet away, wiping water from her eyes. Before Michael could think of something to say to break the silence, Jess moved closer. They now stood a foot apart, mostly naked, in the most romantic place Michael could ever imagine.

  “Do you think I’m attractive?” Jess asked with a somber look on her face.

  The innocent question was startling. Deciding a toned-down version of the truth was best, Michael took a breath and looked away. “Yes…I do.”

  “Sometimes I feel like I must be missing something. I mean, there have been some women to show interest in me…but not for long. Morgan and Stevie both have overflowing dance cards. And of course, Camille.” Jess splayed her hands over the surface of the water and observed the ripples flow and disappear.

  Michael felt angry at the thought of anyone making Jess feel anything less than perfect. Her mind flashed back to the creep with the fake Southern drawl who’d hit on Jess at Nine’s. What had she wanted from Jess? A night in bed and a good-bye in the morning?

  “Jess…you…I mean you have so much to offer. You’re smart and fun. Unique, compassionate. And you’re terribly sexy,” Michael said, trying not to sound breathless. Why the hell did she say that?

  Jess’s eyes shot to hers and Michael was unable to look away.

  “Sexy?” she repeated with a teasing question in her voice.

  Michael turned away slightly, but Jess swam back into her field of vision, now even closer than before.

  Swallowing hard, she forced a small smile, hoping Jess didn’t notice her discomfort. “Yes, sexy.”

  Jess’s lips parted slowly and she let out a small gasp as she looked deeper into Michael’s eyes. Something turned off in Michael’s brain. Some switch flipped and her body was now responding to Jess’s commands. Not realizing she had moved her hands, Michael was surprised to feel the smooth, warm flesh of Jess’s hips under her fingertips. Michael allowed her gaze to travel over Jess’s face. Her pink lips were moist and plump. Her eyes were dark and heavy, and Michael wondered if that was how they looked after making love. Michael’s mouth watered at the thought of Jess coming around her
fingers. She wanted to see those eyes darken as she stroked the most sensitive parts of Jess’s body. As she began to inch closer to Jess in the water, she paused abruptly. Friends. We’re friends. It’s the wine.

  Mustering all the self-control she could, Michael let her gaze drift to their clothes on the shore. “We should be getting back.”

  The spell was broken.

  Michael began to swim back to shore. She glanced back at Jess, who slowly followed. She looked hurt, but Michael could not do anything about it. They would both hurt in the long run if Michael admitted her true feelings. Their friendship wouldn’t survive the awkwardness of Jess not feeling the same way. They would crumble.

  Michael reached the shore and put her clothes on over her damp skin. The sensation was strange and uncomfortable and almost made her wish they had not come to Dogwood Bluff at all. She pulled her hair back and secured it with a rubber band. Michael avoided looking at Jess as she dressed and began to repack the backpack.

  The hike back to the truck and the ride home were made in silence. And it was not their usual companionable silence. On the way back they sat near each other in the old truck, but the only way to describe the ride home was “lonely.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  During the drive back, Michael could tell Jess was woozy from the wine they had shared at the cove. Jess leaned against the passenger window and made small groaning sounds through the whole ride and also kept apologizing, which was typical when she drank too much. Michael was glad Jess was cutting loose and enjoying their mini vacation, but Jess’s relaxed attitude was getting under Michael’s skin and causing her to feel things she usually only allowed herself to feel in private.

  Jess stumbled into the house, telling Michael she didn’t want Annabel to see her that way. She looked adorable and unsteady walking down the long hall, arms outstretched, fingertips running along the wall.

  As Jess got ready for bed, Michael unpacked the food containers and threw away the picnic trash. Pulling her sketchbook from the bottom of the bag, she sat down at the kitchen table to flip through the drawings she had done at the cove. Landscapes had never been her strong suit, and she concentrated mainly on rough ideas for the La Femme project and portraits of Jess. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt relaxed enough to sketch for fun instead of for work or an outlet for frustration. Many times when she sketched Jess, especially lately, there was a sensual aspect to her drawings, but looking at Jess the cove, the gentle slope of her shoulders and the ease of her smile, Michael felt a tug at her heart. She remembered the innocence and simplicity of the sketches she used to do of Jess when they were younger.