A smile spreads his lips and lights my heart. “I would love nothing more than to take you on a date, Miss Brooks.”
NINETEEN
As it happens, our date doesn’t come for another three whole weeks. They let Caroline go home two weeks ago, but Brandon, Mom and Dad and I have been caring for her round the clock, making sure she’s comfortable, administering medicines and keeping logs of her progress to show the visiting nurses every day. It’s been exhausting, but at least it’s better than being in the hospital. It’s nice to be back in my own bed and to be able to shower properly without rushing through it.
But tonight’s the night. Owen is coming over to watch movies with Caroline. Mom and Dad will chaperone—not that anything could happen, what with Caroline’s condition. And Brandon and I are finally going on that date. Dinner, movie, and maybe dessert, if we can keep our eyes open long enough.
I’m waiting in his kitchen while Mom bustles about making dinner for the “kids.” Caroline and Owen are already side-by-side on the couch, and Weekend at Bernie’s has just begun. I hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and my heart starts to race. I’ve spent every waking moment with Brandon over the past six weeks, so why am I so nervous for tonight?
He rounds the corner into the kitchen and smiles. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
“I was just thinking the same thing.” Really, I was. He looks super hot in plaid shorts and a polo, like a preppy Gap model, or something.
“You ready to go?”
I nod and then hop up from my chair.
“Have fun, you two,” Mom calls after us as we head for the front door.
“Thanks, Mom! Bye, Dad!”
We don’t bother saying goodbye to the young whippersnappers on the couch—they’d never hear us anyway over the deafening volume of their classic 80s movie.
It’s gone from chilly, early spring weather to warm and just slightly humid. Not bad enough to ruin a good al fresco dinner, but just enough to make my skin glow. I’m just glad to be in comfy sundresses, and the sunshine has definitely been good for my disposition.
As we drive toward the restaurant, I’m acutely aware of the man next to me in the driver’s seat. I’m not going to lie. I’ve been having more and more improper thoughts about him lately. Something about Caroline’s accident has changed me. I’m not afraid anymore. The guilt over Kyle has dwindled to almost nothing. He’ll always be my first love—I’ll always love him. Always. But there’s room in my heart for more. Room for someone who is here with me, on this Earth.
I glance sideways at the subject of my impure thoughts at the same time he dares a glance in my direction.
“What are you grinning about?” he asks, laughter in his tone.
God, there’s so much sexual tension in this car I can hardly breathe.
“Nothing,” I say, turning my gaze out the window. I’m feeling bold all of a sudden. My heart is racing, my palms are sweating. But I don’t want to go to a stupid restaurant. Or a movie. I’ll die if I have to sit through a movie. “My house is empty,” I blurt out as he pulls up to a stoplight.
He turns to me, his smile gone, his jaw slack. He can’t quite believe what I’ve just said. I can’t quite believe it myself.
“Jess,” he says, the implied you don’t have to do this hanging unsaid in the thick air.
“I’m not promising anything,” I reply, but I’m not losing my nerve. No way. Not now. “I’m just…pointing out that my house is empty right now.”
“You’re not hungry?”
I’m ravenous. “Not for food.”
That must’ve been all he needed to hear. He sticks his hand out the window, asking the car to our left to let us into the turn lane, then when the light turns green, he whips a u-turn and hits the gas hard to take us back to our neighborhood.
We’re there in minutes, in my driveway, scrambling out of the car and running up the walkway to the front door. I yank out my key and jam it into the lock. We stumble inside, I throw my purse to the floor, and before I can blink, Brandon pushes me up against the wall and presses his lips to mine.
Oh, God. It’s been so long. Every inch of me aches with the need to be touched, loved, caressed. He smells divine, and it occurs to me that I know that smell well. He’s wearing Eternity. Part of me wants to stop and acknowledge this little divine sign, but I don’t want to ruin the mood. I don’t want anything to derail what’s about to happen.
His hands feel like heaven as they splay across my back, moving up and down and back up where he cradles my head and presses my mouth even closer to his. As if we could get any closer. Yet I’m not sure I’ll ever be close enough.
I wrap a leg around him, pressing his body closer to mine. It’s still not good enough. There are too many layers of clothing between us.
“We should take this to my room,” I say, pushing him away reluctantly. His hair is tousled. I hadn’t even realized I’d put my fingers through it.
He’s breathing heavily. “Lead the way.”
I make a beeline for the stairs and take them two at a time. He’s right on my heels, and when we reach my bedroom, he backs me up against my door until it clicks shut behind me. Everything is all teeth and tongue and hands. I can hardly stand it.
I unbutton the one button on his polo shirt and then grab the hem in my hands. He lifts his arms so I can yank it off over his head. My mouth goes dry. God, he’s amazing. I know he works out, but holy shit. My hands seem to have a mind of their own as they caress the expanse of muscle. He’s so smooth, with just a little dusting of hair splaying across his chest. I want to kiss it. I do kiss it. All of it. I pepper him with rapid, little kisses, like I’m worshipping him. And I am.
I must have been so caught up in my chest worship, I didn’t even notice he unzipped my dress. It falls to the floor in a heap around my ankles. It’s in this moment that it hits me. The emotions are so raw, as I stand here, practically naked, in front of him. I had never planned to be naked for anyone but Kyle. I don’t feel guilty about it—it’s not that at all. It just feels strange. Like this is the end and the beginning all at once. The start and the finish. It doesn’t make sense—it doesn’t seem possible that I can feel all of that at the same time, but I do. I want to laugh and I want to cry, but I don’t do either. I do what I’ve been longing to do for a while now. I leap into Brandon’s arms. I kiss him, I feel him, and I let him carry me to the bed.
Shadows play across the room as the sun makes its swift descent, eventually cloaking us in twilight. This used to be the hardest time of day for me. I don’t know why. Perhaps it symbolized the end of life. The end of Kyle’s, and thousands of other people’s lives. But with this evening, with this act of love—and that’s exactly what it is: love—it will mean something new. Something different and wonderful, and I’ll need not fear the darkness anymore.
Brandon takes his time, checking in with me with each step forward to make sure it’s what I want. It is. I want it more than anything in the whole world. I want to be his, and I want him to be mine.
And eventually, in one magical, explosive moment, I get exactly what I want.
I blink my eyes open, but it doesn’t help. It’s pitch black in my room. Crap. We must have fallen asleep.
I glance up at the clock on my nightstand. 10:30. Thank God. We still have time to compose ourselves, get a little something to eat and get back to Brandon’s house at a decent hour.
“Brandon,” I say, trying to reach up to turn on the light.
He pulls me back into his arms with a moan. “Don’t you dare turn on that light,” he warns.
“If I don’t, my Mom will,” I say. “I’m guessing you don’t want to be found naked in my bed by Mr. and Mrs. Brooks, do you?”
He nuzzles my cheek and starts kissing me just behind my ear. I squirm because it tickles, but I don’t really want him to stop.
“I don’t really care who finds us right now,” he says. “I just don’t want to leave.”
“Why are you trying so hard to evade me?” He sits up suddenly. My eyes have adjusted to the dark, so I can see the silhouette of his face above mine, the glow of his eyes. “Are you okay? Should we not have done this?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, laughing. “But I am hungry. You never did take me to dinner, remember?”
“If I remember right,” he replies. “That wasn’t my fault.” Then he leans down and presses his lips to mine again, attempting to take me on another head-spinning ride toward ecstasy.
But I push him away. “Stop trying to seduce me!”
“But it’s my favorite thing to do.”
I giggle. “It’s pretty high on my list of favorites, too,” I admit.
“Great!” He tries to kiss me again.
“Stop!” I yell, but I’m laughing all the while. “Come on. My parents are gonna wonder where we are if we’re not back soon. And, as I said before, I’m hungry.”
“All right, all right. I can take a hint.”
“More like a sledgehammer to the head,” I tease.
He clicks on the lamp and I watch as his eyes fall immediately to the picture of Kyle and me on the nightstand.
“Sorry,” I say as I reach over and put the frame down on its face. Now I feel bad. For Kyle and for Brandon. What a weird situation.
But then Brandon surprises me. He turns the picture upright again, and then flashes me a soft smile. “You don’t have to hide pictures of you and Kyle, silly.”
“I don’t?”
He shakes his head as he sits on the bed and begins to pull on his boxers. “Nope.”
“But isn’t it weird?”
“Listen, Jess. I’m not in any way threatened by your memories of Kyle. He was obviously special to you. I can see it in that picture.” He gestures toward the picture and I follow to stare at Kyle and me. We’re smiling and happy, without a care in the world. “I’m not trying to replace him, okay?” He takes my hand and I shift my gaze to look at him. “You and I will make our own memories, but it doesn’t mean you have to forget the ones you made with him.”
He’s so perfect, so wonderful. I think again how much I don’t deserve him. I actually think it fairly often. “I want to make love to you again,” I blurt out.
A smile spreads his lips, and there’s a little smugness in his eyes. He knows he’s good. “I would, but I’m afraid I’ll get in trouble if I try to kiss you again.”
“Why don’t you give it a try?”
“If you insist.”
It’s midnight by the time we make it back to his place. Owen and Caroline are passed out on the couches in the family room, and Mom and Dad are playing cards at the kitchen table.
“Well, there you are! How was the movie?” Mom asks, and I immediately feel the heat rush to my cheeks.
“Oh, um. We didn’t actually make it to the movie,” I say.
“No?” Mom looks concerned, as if something tragic must have prevented us from getting to the theater.
“Actually, we just got to talking over dinner and lost track of time. Missed the movie completely.”
“Where’d you go for dinner?” Dad wants to know. Crap.
I’m about to open my mouth to say I-don’t-know-what, but Brandon cuts me off.
“The Public House,” he says.
“Great spot.” Dad is beaming. “What did you think, honey? Your first time, right?”
It takes me an interminable minute to realize he’s talking about my first time at the restaurant and not my first time having sex with Brandon. “Oh, um, great! Really top notch.”
Dad reaches across the table and grabs Mom’s hand. “We should go this weekend, sweetheart. I haven’t taken you on a proper date in a while.”
“Oh, Bill,” she says, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “Well, it’s getting late. We better hit the hay.”
I try my best to hide my massive sigh of relief at the sudden change in subject. It’s too late for me to navigate a web of lies tonight.
“You coming with us, Pumpkin?” Dad asks as he and Mom head for the front door.
“Actually,” I say, tossing a glance to Brandon. “I think I’ll help Brandon get the youngin’s off to bed. I’m not really tired anyway. But I’ll be home soon. Don’t wait up.”
Dad looks to Brandon. “You’ll make sure she gets home safely?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Brandon replies, and I see the little smirk that’s playing at the corners of his lips.
We walk Mom and Dad to the door, and it occurs to me that it feels like we’re a married couple, walking our guests to the door, bidding them goodnight. It’s nice, and a warm feeling settles over me. The feeling that I don’t ever want this to end.
As soon as Mom and Dad are out the door and headed home, Brandon and I glance at each other. That’s all we need. A single glance to let the other know that we’re not going to bed anytime soon. Or at least not to sleep.
TWENTY
June 1, 2002. It’s the official opening of Kyle’s Kitchen. We decided to launch it as a summer program first, since kids are going to be out of school with potentially nowhere to go while their parents work all day. After Caroline’s accident, parents were eager to get their kids into a program that would keep them out of trouble for the summer, so enrollments are through the roof. And I have to say, I’m pretty darn proud of what we’ve accomplished so far. The kitchen is just the tip of the iceberg. We transformed the giant warehouse in the back into a multipurpose sort of game room for the kids. When they aren’t cooking, they can play ping-pong, watch movies, read or do homework, since a good amount of them have summer classes they have to take.
It’s eight in the morning, and I’m standing outside the door, waiting for our first campers to arrive, when an arm drapes over my shoulder.
“You know they won’t start coming for another hour, right?” Caroline says into my ear.
I turn to her and smile. It’s hard to believe the miraculous recovery she’s made, and not just from the accident. She’s hardly recognizable from the girl I first met six months ago. She let all the black grow out of her hair, so it’s a pretty, shiny blondish color now. She stopped wearing all the heavy makeup. Her face is all peaches-and-cream, and she’s using brown to thinly line her eyes instead of the heavy black she once was. She hasn’t started wearing cardigans and pencil skirts, but she’s toned down the leather and chains. Her look is all together refreshing.
“Yeah, I know,” I say on a sigh. My palms are sweaty and my breaths are high. “I’m a little nervous, I guess.”
“It’s kind of a big deal, huh?”
“Kind of.” I smile at her again. “So, you have the schedule all laid out?”
She brightens. She loves talking about the schedule. “Yes! Mushroom frittatas for breakfast, followed by free time until eleven, when we’ll start on the grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
I remember Kyle’s grilled cheese and tomato soup well. It was my favorite rainy day lunch. He made the sandwich with all kinds of special cheeses and exotic bread. And the tomato soup was chunky with lots of basil, all from scratch, of course. It was heaven.
“… and then we’re going to make the snacks for the daycare up the street. Once we deliver those, there will be another period of free time before we start on dinner—stuffed chickens that everyone can take home to their families.”
I stare at Caroline in awe. “I’m so proud of you,” I say, trying not to gush too much. She hates it when I gush.
“I know,” she replies, with the familiar obstinacy in her tone. “You’ve only said so a hundred times.”
“Sorry.” I shrug. “I can’t help it.”
“Well, for the record,” she says, turning to me and grabbing both my hands. “I’m proud of you too.”
“Aw, shucks,” I say, trying to make light of a too-serious moment. I don’t want to cry. Not today.
“Hey,” Brandon says, sticking his head out the door. “Can I g
et you two to come inside, please?”
“Um, sure.” Caroline drops my hands and then leads the way inside.
Mom, Dad and Owen are inside too, helping to make sure everything is ready for the day. But Brandon has gathered them in the main kitchen area, and he ushers us over to join them. As we stand there, staring at him, he bounces on his toes and then rubs his hands together and lets out a big sigh.
“What’s going on?” I laugh, wondering what in the world he’s so pumped up about.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says. “Close your eyes.”
I look around at Mom, Dad and Caroline and Owen. They all have surreptitious smiles on their faces. Clearly, they were in on whatever surprise this is.
I close my eyes, feeling slightly afraid, and after a bit of scuffling and shuffling about, Brandon announces that I can open my eyes.
The emotion hits me like a ton of bricks. The realization of what he’s done threatens to send me to the floor, a sobbing mess. He’s at my side in a moment, holding me up, as he always does, while I stare through my tears at the precious gift he’s given to me, to Kyle’s Kitchen.
Kyle stares back at me from a gigantic portrait, his smile enigmatic, reminding me of his love for me, for his family, for food. Along the bottom of the frame is a gold plate that reads In Loving Memory of Kyle Clarke.
“It’ll hang right there,” Brandon says, pointing to the far wall. “It’ll be the first thing anyone sees when they walk through the door.”
I’m crying so hard I can’t even get the words out to thank him, but I’m guessing he can tell how much it means to me. It means the world to me. This place is because of Kyle—it’s only fitting that he should have a presence here.
I throw myself into Brandon’s arms. I still can’t speak, and even if I could, there aren’t enough words, or the right words, to express what I’m feeling toward him.
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