Skin: He wanted full contact

by Johanna Hawke

  Roni,

  There’s not a day that passes without you on my mind. It’s surreal that it’s been over three years since I’ve seen you, because I feel like it was just yesterday. I still see you in my dreams whenever I close my eyes, and it helps keep me going. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself, but I still always feel like something is missing. That something is you. I wish you could see the person I’ve become, because I think you’d be proud of him. Maybe you’d even give him another chance.

  I wish I could talk about art with you. I know I used to tease you about your love of art, but I’ve found a love for it, too—and it’s not just because of you, even though it’s an added bonus that it’s something we could someday share. I have your name tattooed on my body, as a testament of my love, and as a reminder of how badly I screwed up. I promise, if you ever give me another chance, I won’t make the same mistake.

  The Pritchett House went up for sale, and I’m thinking about putting in an offer. Can you believe that? Who would’ve thought I’d ever be able to work hard and save up the money? I’m buying the house for us, Roni. Sure, for now, it’ll be just me in that old mansion, but I hope someday you’ll join me. I know you’d love it.

  I guess you’ll be done with school soon. Your dad still hates me, but I’m sure that your mom will be nice enough to show me some pictures from your graduation.

  All my love,

  Jesse

  There was a stack of letters just like those, probably nearing one hundred or so, all addressed to Roni, all unsent, spanning over three years. Even though I’d written them under the assumption that Roni would never see them, I knew I had to give them to her. She had to know how much I cared. As I walked to the car, box in tow, a sudden feeling of nausea overcame me. It was intimidating, maybe even embarrassing, to show Roni my innermost feelings about her. I didn’t have the slightest clue what most of the letters said, having written them in moments of sadness and excitement and confusion, whenever inspiration struck.

  I drove cautiously, as if the letters would somehow spontaneously combust if I went even a tad too fast. Roni was sitting right where I’d left her, on the porch swing that took up most of the left side of the porch. She didn’t budge, and didn’t even show the slightest hint of curiosity. With every bit of my being, I hoped she hadn’t already written me off.

  “I need to show you something,” I said, approaching her.

  “Jesse, you can’t keep doing this,” Roni said. She stood up and began pacing the length of the porch. “I don’t need your flowers, or your art studio, or your presents. They’re not going to fix anything.”

  I held out my hand to keep Roni from passing. “Please. Just take a look.” I held the shoebox up for her to see.

  “What’s in there?”

  “Letters. To you.”

  That finally caught Roni’s attention. She swiped the box from me, sat down right where she had stopped, and carefully pulled off the lid. I watched as her eyes scanned the envelopes up and down, trying to make sense of it all. “You wrote all of these?” she asked.

  “Every single one. I never planned on showing them to you, but I need you to know how much I care about you.”

  Roni pulled an envelope from the pile and slipped out the piece of paper that was inside. I watched her closely as she ran her finger back and forth across the page, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she read the words. I had no clue what the letter she’d chosen said, but hopefully it was enough to win her trust back.

  “So, what is this supposed to prove?” Roni said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “That you wrote me letters while you were bored in jail?”

  I shook my head. “I wrote you letters while I was in jail, and almost every single week since then,” I said. “The ones I’ve written since I moved out of my parents’ house are over at my place, but I can go get them if you really need them as proof of how I feel about you.”

  Roni didn’t move. She sat, frozen, her eyes fixated on the box. She suddenly reached for another letter, skimmed that one, then chose another. Thank goodness this seemed to be working. I felt naked, exposed, with Roni reading all of my innermost thoughts, but, if this is what it took to make things right, so be it.

  I didn’t want to push Roni, to say or do any of the wrong things, so I sat beside her, silent, waiting for her to make a move. She finished the letter she was reading and placed it carefully next to the box. Catching me off guard, Roni dropped the shoebox on the porch. She ran inside without a word, slamming the screen door behind her.

  “Roni!” I wanted desperately to go after her, to apologize for whatever I’d done, but I knew there was no use. I had nothing left to give. If she couldn’t see from these letters and my efforts that I loved her, I supposed there wasn’t much else I could do but give Roni time and space. Defeated, trying with all my strength to hold back the tears I knew were coming, I retreated back to my car.

  “Where are you going?” Roni yelled through the screen door.

  I turned around to see her holding a giant sketchbook, like the ones she’d always had on hand in high school. Rather than looking angry or upset, she looked almost mischievous, like I was about to be exposed to a huge secret. “I thought you…” I mumbled. “I mean…”

  Roni slowly made her way closer to me and placed the large book in my hands. On the front cover, in gold paint, she’d written “R + J Forever.”

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Go on,” Roni said, nudging me. “Open it.”

  I flipped open the cover to find a painting of a picture, one that we’d taken on our trip to Kings Dominion. I was wearing my favorite red polo and khaki shorts, while Roni looked gorgeous in a yellow crop top and denim shorts. Roni had recreated the picture with incredible precision. “Wow,” was all I could manage to say. Roni pulled the page away from me to reveal another piece of us, this time, a drawing. She turned the pages methodically, stopping only to explain to me what moment or event each piece of artwork was from.

  “Whenever I missed you, I drew, or I painted,” Roni said. “Letters were your way of coping. Art was mine.”

  “These pieces are stunning,” I said, letting the words come out as delicately as possible. I wasn’t sure if we were still in whatever unspoken fight we had been in.

  “Thanks.” Roni looked up at me. “So, you really didn’t just go home and write all those letters to try and win me back? You seriously wrote these last year, and the year before that, and the year before that?”

  I chuckled. “Promise. I’d still be writing for another few hours if that were the case.” Roni took me page by page through her artistic interpretation of our relationship. It was beyond anything I could have ever imagined, far more impressive than my measly letters.

  When we got toward the end of the book, Roni stopped on a painting that sent my head spinning. My knees felt weak, my hands clammy, as I tried to soak in the subject of the piece. It was prom night. Roni was wearing the pink ballgown she’d spent weeks bragging about but had never actually shown me, and I was beside her in a tuxedo. We looked as happy as we’d been for most of our senior year.

  “Roni,” I whispered. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “You were supposed to be my prom date,” Roni said, softly.

  I pointed at the painting. “This is how I wanted that night to go. In my dreams, this is how things ended up.”

  Chapter 31

  Jesse

  “I love you, Jesse,” Roni blurted. I could tell by the look on her face that she was just as surprised at the words that had come out, but, there they were. “I mean…”

  “I love you, too, Veronica Lynn Vance,” I said, a wave of relief rushing over me as soon as the words came out. It made all the difference in the world, no longer having to bite my tongue for fear that the words would tumble out before Roni was ready to hear them. “I love you more than anything.”

  Roni looked over to the shoebox on the porch and smiled. “I can
’t believe you wrote to me. And not just once, but, like, a hundred times. Guess you really did miss me, huh?”

  “I told you I never stopped loving you. That talk around town, it’s all nonsense. I’ve only ever wanted you.” Roni looked up at me like I held all of life’s answers, with a spark in her eye I hadn’t seen since the night I cooked dinner for her. I wasn’t sure about most things, but I was certain that I at least knew the next step for us. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

  “Seriously?” Roni asked, her laughter filling the air. Had I missed something? What on earth was funny at a time like this?

  “What?”

  “After all we’ve been through, that’s the best you’ve got?”

  I was sure the puzzled look on my face remained. “Huh?”

  “That’s the same question you asked me at the end of sophomore year,” Roni said. “We’ve been through a hell of a lot since then. Now, my sexy, macho, tattoo-covered hunk, do you have something to ask me?”

  I cleared my throat, happy to oblige this wonderful woman. “Roni, will you be the love of my life, the one who I fall asleep next to and wake up next to, the one who I fully intend on falling even more deeply in love with each day?”

  Tears fell down Roni’s cheeks. “Of course,” she said, choking back tears. “I’ve been waiting a damn long time to hear you ask me that.”

  “No more games,” I said. “I’m in this for the long-haul.”

  “No more games,” Roni agreed. She leapt into my arms and wrapped her arms around my neck, planting a long, sweet kiss on my lips. It felt comfortable. It felt right. It felt like I never wanted it to end. Roni pulled away. “One more thing.”

  “Anything.”

  “Please don’t break my heart again.”

  “Never, never, never,” I said.

  “Good. Because I’m pretty darn in love with you.” I placed my hand on the back of her head, taking a handful of her blond curls, and moved her lips back onto mine. We kissed and we kissed, letting our tongues move in their own little rhythm.

  “What’re you doing the rest of the day?” I asked when our lips finally parted.

  Roni shrugged. “No plans, in particular. Why?”

  Feeling the adrenaline rushing through my body, I grabbed Roni’s hand and pulled her over to my car. “I have an idea. It’s a surprise!”

  “I’ve never heard that one before,” Roni said, rolling her eyes. That didn’t stop her, however, from kissing my cheek and running around to the passenger side door. I kept it to myself that I really had two surprises in mind. First, I had to show Roni the art studio. Whether she wanted the gift or not, it was hers, and I knew she would come to love it. I drove slowly along the road, soaking in every inch of Roni. It was surreal—and simply amazing—to have her back. This time, it was forever.

  I parked the car in the parking lot beside the flower shop and tugged Roni toward the sidewalk. “Downtown Linfield?” she asked, laughing. “That’s your big surprise?”

  “You’ll see,” I said. I led her to the front of the shop, right where I’d hung a sign that read, Art school coming soon. I waited as patiently as I could as until Roni understood the gravity of the sign in front of her.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered. She turned to me. “You were serious?”

  I nodded. “Babe, you’re so talented, and wonderful, and I want you to be able to live out your dream. I’m living out mine right now, just being here with you.

  Tears fell down Roni’s cheeks as she wrapped me in a hug. She was a blubbering mess, completely overwhelmed but also smiling from ear to ear. She slowly, cautiously, as if it could somehow all disappear, made her way inside the shop, which had been mostly cleared out by Berta. “This is too much, Jesse.”

  “Well, it’s ours for the year,” I said. “So, if you don’t want it, I’ll have to come up with a new business idea.”

  “Is it really all ours?”

  I smiled. “It’s all yours. I’m just along for the ride.”

  To my surprise, Roni let go of her reservations and seemed to get just as excited as I was. She walked around the shop and made pretend plans for each of the rooms. “This would be the perfect place for a desk,” she said of the front area. She pointed to the front corner. “And a little play area for kids between classes could go right there.”

  As I drove to the next place I had in mind, Roni was too busy chatting to notice the roads we were taking. Surely, if she had, she would have noticed that I was taking her to the artistic paradise where we’d spent a great weekend and made love for the first time. Roni’s excitement about the art studio was a great excuse for distraction, though.

  “Is this really happening?” Roni stopped to ask. “Can I really do this?”

  I stopped at a red light and kissed her on the forehead. “Of course you can. It’s going to be amazing!”

  “I really want to have a good variety of classes,” Roni said. “When I was younger and wanted to take art classes in elementary school, everything was so cut and dry. You could take painting or drawing. You could do modeling clay or 3-D crafts. I want classes where the kids can do it all. And some adult classes, of course. I can’t think of a single place within five miles of Linfield that offers adult art classes.”

  With the exception of the occasional adult art class at the Linfield Community Center, Roni was right. The way she spoke told me that this hadn’t just been a pipe dream in her mind for years. It had been an actual dream with actual plans. She talked in a way that showed that she’d done her research. I had no doubt she was the perfect person to lead an art school in Linfield. She was just what the local community needed.

  “How about a pottery class?” I said to Roni, grinning.

  She let out that precious giggle. “Yeah, I might need to hire someone else to teach that class.” I flashed back to our horrendous but hilarious pottery experience and smiled as I took the exit toward Norfolk. I was fairly certain Roni still hadn’t paid enough attention to figure out where we were going, or maybe she just wanted me to believe that it was still a surprise.

  “I’m glad you’re on board, Roni,” I said, revealing my innermost thoughts. “I knew you’d resist, but this is what you’re born to do. You love art, and you’re great with kids. I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

  The hotel was just around the corner when Roni said, “Are we where I think we are?”

  “Nice of you to finally notice.” I cracked a smile. “Hopefully your dad will be ok with you staying out for the night.”

  Roni looked right into my eyes. “He’ll have to be.”

  In my haze of planning and rush of spontaneity, I hadn’t even considered calling the hotel to make a reservation. I supposed it was because I hadn’t wanted to have to cancel if things hadn’t turned out so well. Lucky for us, it was the middle of the week and not too many people were dying to visit Norfolk in the dead of winter.

  As we walked to our room—not the same one as last time, but one on the same floor—we bickered and carried on like we hadn’t missed a beat. That was what I loved about Roni. We could always pick up right where we’d left off, whether it had been minutes or weeks. I knew in my heart, however, that we’d never have to pick up the pieces again. We were together, and together was my favorite place to be.

  “I didn’t pack a bag,” Roni said, the realization sending a horrified look across her face.

  “Neither did I,” I said. “I guess we’ll just have to spend the whole time naked.” Roni let out a chuckle, one that I knew well enough to know that it was out of politeness and not genuine amusement. “I’m kidding. We can always go shopping. Will you be spontaneous with me, Veronica Vance?”

  Roni opened the door to our room. “I would love to.”

  She hugged me quickly, then got a running start into a jump onto the bed. She was beautiful. The room was as quiet as the hallways, and I was unsure whether the silence was unsettling or romantic. Given the occasion, I decided on the latter.

  “You rem
ember the last time we were here?” Roni whispered.

  “How could I forget?” I took Roni gently in my arms and kissed her cheek. When we’d made love for the first time here in high school, it had been all about hormones and the buildup of finally having sex. This time, I wanted it to be not only passionate, but romantic. This was going to be our last first time.

  Roni laid on the bed as if telling me to take her right then and there. The cold weather made for more layers we had to take off of one another, but I readily accepted the challenge. I started with Roni’s sweater, then took off her blouse and camisole. There was something so sexy about her lying there in just a bra and jeans. “Want to know a secret?” Roni said. I nodded. “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

  Damn, she knew how to get to me. I slid the jeans off Roni’s smooth legs and rubbed her feet. I made small circles in the small of each foot as she made a joke about how being on her feet all day, teaching, had really done a number on her feet. I wanted her to know that this was about more than sex for me. Coming back here was about acknowledging our past while working toward a fresh start.

  Roni leaned forward and started unbuttoning my flannel shirt as she kissed my neck. God, I’d missed her tongue. I took my jeans and boxers off as fast as I could, ready to let our bodies reunite. Roni ran her fingers along my body, stopping between my legs to tease my soldier. “I really missed you.”

  I fell onto Roni as we knotted our two bodies together. All that was left to do was unhook her bra. I slipped my hand under Roni’s bare back and carefully removed the hook from the eye. I threw the pink, lacy number onto the floor, proud of my handiwork. We’d come a long way from the last time we’d been in this hotel, but that wasn’t a bad thing. We’d been through a hell of a lot, both as a couple and individually, and, still, we’d made it. I’d never been so happy to make a commitment.