“Well, well, well,” he paused behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder. “If it isn’t the night owl. What time did you crawl in the door last night?”
I closed the screen to keep from disturbing him with my research. Yes, I wanted to know if he was experiencing anything weird, but I didn’t want him to know it was getting to me as much as it was.
“I think it was about one or so.”
“Mm-hmm.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I hear the Kepner boy gave you a ride home.”
Kepner boy? “This town doesn’t miss a thing, does it?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Yes, he did. I had a little too much to drink, and he drove both Becky and me home.”
“He’s a good kid,” he patted me and stepped away to open the refrigerator.
“I’m glad you think so, Dad,” I started, “because I’m going out with him tonight.”
“Well, well,” he was leaning against the counter when I turned back to look at him. “There’s something the town missed.”
“I’m sure it’ll be on the six o’clock news,” I stood up. “Speaking of which, I should start getting around. Do you want me to make you something for dinner before I leave?”
“Nah,” he shrugged. “I think I’ll just heat up a can of soup and make myself a sandwich.”
“Well, I’ll be upstairs taking a shower and cursing my limited wardrobe selection if you need me.” I started toward the stairs and paused for a moment to consider asking him if he’d noticed anything weird. “Hey, Dad?” I’d even gone so far as to start, but then once he looked up at me to see what I wanted, there was something about his face, maybe it was just the tired look he wore, that made me not want to go that far. “Never mind.”
“Suit yourself,” he called as I disappeared up the stairs to start getting ready for my date.
Chapter Fourteen
Troy surprised me by skipping town and driving us into Williamsport, the closest thing to a city within 100 miles of Sonesville. There was a quaint little seafood place nestled behind the busiest strip in town, where we settled into a table and continued a stream of steady conversation. We had actually been talking almost nonstop since he’d picked me up about everything from the downtrodden and now defunct Sonesville Standard to the high school football team’s final game of the season.
With the menu in front of me, I stole a glance across the table and admired him for a moment. He still hadn’t shaved, but it was closely clipped to maintain that rugged look that had been driving me crazy since I’d first noticed it. The curls of his dirty-blond hair seemed almost purposely unruly, but like the stubble, it only served to make him even more attractive. I watched him bunch his lips and push them to the side while deep in thought, and then, as if he felt my stare burning into his skin, he looked up and turned his face as if to ask what I was thinking.
“I can’t believe that you actually asked me to come out with you tonight,” I shook my head and looked back down at the menu. “Especially after the way I acted last night on the way home.”
“You were a little angry last night,” he admitted. “But I chalked it up to the alcohol.”
“I am not usually like that,” I assured him. “In fact, I hardly ever drink.”
“Last night was a special occasion.” He watched me trace the condensation on the outside of my water glass.
“I guess it sort of turned into one, yeah.”
“Don’t worry about it, Janice, really.” I thought there was a nervous catch in his voice. “I came on a little strong myself a couple times, poking my nose in where it didn’t belong, but you have to understand I’ve waited ten years to find the nerve to ask you out on a date.”
I couldn’t tell from his expression whether or not he was telling the truth, but even as a false admission it made me feel strange inside. “What are you talking about?”
“Seriously,” he turned and folded the menu closed almost casually, but then I noticed it wasn’t so much casual, as it was a way to distract himself. “Admitting this is probably going to kill me, but I’m gonna just be straight with you.”
“Okay,” the entire tone turned suddenly awkward.
“I had a crush on you all through high school.”
“Wait, weren’t you going out with Sonya Whatshername ten years ago.”
“Not exclusively,” he shrugged his left shoulder up against his cheek. “I mean, we went out and all that, but I never wanted to get as serious as she did.”
“Well that explains the writing on the bathroom wall in the girls’ locker room.”
The muscles in his face reacted in a slow grin, exposing both dimples. “What writing?”
“I believe it said Sonya and Troy forever. Eyes off, hands off, death to all who dare… or something to that effect.”
“And that explains why I couldn’t get a date with anyone from here to Canton until I was twenty-two.” The mood was already lighter between us than it had been all week, and the sound of his laugh only drew me further off guard. It could already tell that my whole plot to not let the night go to my head was about to be spoiled.
“Forever is a very long time, Troy,” I pointed out.
“And you dare tempt her wrath now?” Troy arched one eyebrow curiously toward me, but before I could answer our server stepped in to take our orders. I ordered the Scallops Mascarpone, and could almost hear Becky’s voice booing that I should have ordered the lobster to show him I was really interested.
As our server walked way, Troy leaned almost casually across the table. “I can still remember the first time I really noticed you. You were in ninth grade. We were all at some pep rally before a big away game against Montgomery, and you and that girl you were always hanging out with, what was her name?” I started to open my mouth, but he insisted, “I’ll get it, give me a minute.”
“I’ll give you a hint,” I said, “it starts with an E.”
“Erika Lewis, I knew it would come to me. You and Erika were sitting way up on the top row of bleachers with your arms crossed defiantly against the whole charade. In fact, I believe one of you spent that whole rally reading Shakespeare or something, and I wanted to ask you which play you were reading.”
“It was Chaucer, actually,” I started, “and I never did understand that whole pep rally thing.”
A slow, clever grin played against his features as he admitted, “I think that’s what I liked about you.”
“What? You were some kind of renegade football player that hated winning?”
“No, I loved football, and I loved winning,” he shrugged and leaned back into his seat. “I just never really liked cheerleaders all that much.”
“So that whole football player and cheerleader thing… is that some kind of myth?”
“Beats me,” he laughed again. “All I know is that most of them were too full of themselves to be much fun on a date, and conversation was usually pretty dull.”
As I took a sip of the ice water in front of me, I wondered how many people thought Amber Williams was dull back then. I shook my head as I thought about our teenage expectations. “Isn’t it funny how none of our stereotypes seemed to really fit? I mean, I would have never expected you to want to talk about Shakespeare.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“Well, Shakespeare’s all right, I guess, but I’d much rather talk about Byron, Shelley and Keats if we were going to talk about literature.”
Feeling brave, I allowed my eyes to widen with delight. “A real Romantic?”
I couldn’t tell if it was a conscious act, but Troy’s tongue moved slowly over his lower lip before he admitted, “You have no idea.”
Before I could utter the dooming phrase, “I can’t wait to find out,” the server returned to pour our wine, and I’d never been so grateful for someone else’s timing in my life. I heard Becky’s warning that falling in love didn’t follow our own planned agendas, and actually questioned the likelihood of fate or destiny for a moment.
I held my glass and swirled the wine almost thoughtlessly while I tried to figure him out. “And why didn’t you ever ask me out back then?”
Seriously, he could have dated anyone in that school, and I’d never been afraid of Sonya. Despite the fact that I was some rebel town-hater who thought she hated football players and wrestlers, I wondered what I might have said if he’d asked me out back then. Would I have gone with him? Would my life have turned out differently?
Troy cleared his throat and looked down at the table. “Sonya was part of the reason,” he admitted. “But mostly… I don’t know, I guess felt intimidated by you, I mean, you were beautiful and in your own world. I never felt like I was good enough for you.”
An ache of guilt stiffened inside of me while I leaned my back into the chair. In high school, I certainly hadn’t thought of myself as beautiful, but maybe I carried myself just a bit like I was better than everyone else. I’d had a couple of boyfriends from rivaling schools, but it wasn’t like the guys were falling over themselves to ask me out, and while I didn’t fall into any of the cliques or stereotyped groups, I’d more or less done my best to get along with everyone. While I tried to imagine how I might have reacted if the Troy of yesterday actually worked up the nerve to ask me out back then, I couldn’t even picture it clearly in my mind.
But the two of us as adults and in that very moment seemed right together, no matter how much I wanted to deny it.
“And now, here we are. You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” he said. “And without Sonya around to hold me back, I figured why not take a chance.”
I couldn’t look at him when giddy flutters of embarrassment seized me. I couldn’t even remember the last time a guy who wasn’t my father told me I was beautiful, and whoever he was he certainly hadn’t said it in the middle of dinner. I hadn’t been expecting such a heartfelt confession, and suddenly my erratic behavior with him made me feel stupid and naïve. His rushing to my rescue at every turn, his insistence that I give him a call if I need anything at all, his presence the night before at the bar… all of it went right over my head.
Even though I entertained thoughts of my own it never really occurred to me that he might feel the same way, and I certainly never expected to hear that he’d felt that way for the last ten years.
I wondered how he felt in his role as confessor. Whatever he felt, his confession definitely set the tone for the evening. My subtle resistance was easily thwarted and all through dinner I noticed myself studying him, and then looking rather clumsily away whenever he’d catch me in the act. How could he have liked me all those years ago, and I’d never known? Had he ever tried to make it obvious? Had there ever been any moments I should have looked across the crowded cafeteria and caught him just as he was looking away?
There were no answers to any of those questions, at least none that would ever solve my curiosity, so when he made conversation about things like my work I talked, and found myself asking equally mundane questions when there was so much more I wanted to know.
After dinner we headed back toward Muncy to catch a movie at the new Multiplex theatre just outside the shopping mall. Both of us agreed that in the spirit of Halloween a scary film was in order, so we ducked into the 8:15 showing of Paranormal Activity 3.
We made small talk about how fast the area seemed to be growing, and how much it changed since we were kids. When the movie started, I felt awkward sitting so stiffly beside him. I may not have realized it at the time I agreed to go out with him, but we were on a real date, and I hadn’t been on any kind of date in so long that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like. Should I try to hold his hand to show him I liked him, or did I let him make the first move?
There were several points during the film that made me uncomfortable, especially as manifesting paranormal activity became too real to deny. It reminded me of the questionable experience I’d had myself the night before and just thinking about my mother’s ghost standing at the top of the stairs made me shudder in my seat.
Troy seemed undisturbed beside me, intently watching the plot unravel, but from time to time I sensed him looking at me in the dark, and when he finally reached tentatively over to take my hand I was actually grateful. Whether he sensed it or not, the gesture brought me a great deal of comfort, enough that I didn’t even withdraw my hand from his as we walked out of the theatre and into the damp chill of another October night together.
“What time will you be turning into a pumpkin?” He leaned in close as we walked together toward the far end of the near-empty parking lot.
“A pumpkin?” I laughed.
“I have done my best to be Prince Charming this evening.”
“Prince Charming was Snow White’s prince.”
“Really? I thought he was just a chivalric stereotype.”
“In the old stories, I guess he was. Maybe I’ve just been watching too much Once Upon a Time.” I covered our clasped hands with my free one and looked up into his eyes. “Either way, you have fulfilled that role tonight very well.”
We paused in the parking lot face to face. The wind was subtle, but cold enough that it cut easily through the thin layers of my long skirt. Troy took my other hand and squeezed it softly inside his own as he leaned in closer and lowered his forehead against mine.
“Does the lady have a curfew?”
“Not that I know of.”
The truth was, since his confessions at dinner the rest of our date had been set on fast forward, and now I didn’t want the night to end. I wanted to know more about him, to dig in and find out everything there was to know inside, and in that moment I would have given anything for him to kiss me.
Even though it was dark, the orange glow of light from the parking lot made the color of his eyes stand out. He loosened his left hand and reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear, “Can I show you something top secret?”
“Top secret?”
“Mm-hmm,” his finger lingered there just beside my ear.
The horror movie mood still gripped me, and I looked down at our hands still clasped between us. “Should I be scared?”
“No need,” he shrugged one shoulder upward, “I’ll protect you.”
I shivered just a little as his finger moved down my cheek and snuck under my chin to tilt my face into his. I should have been surprised by the delightful movement of his mouth over mine, but I sunk into it almost too comfortably and lifted my free hand to rest against the stubble on his cheek. I reveled in the fantasy I’d been dreaming about for days, and actually relaxed against him. His earlier confession still made my insides feel like molten goo, but that was nothing compared to the onslaught of butterflies that took over my heart. When he drew his lips away from mine, he hovered close for just a moment, and then grazed the corner of my mouth before he backed away.
“So, what do you say?”
Anything to keep the night going forever, I thought. It actually took me a moment to catch my breath again to speak. “Lead the way, Prince Charming.”
Troy opened the truck door for me and then closed me inside before walking around to climb in himself. While waiting for it to warm up, he adjusted the heating controls and the radio. A few minutes later, we were back on the road and headed toward Sonesville. Even in the dark the landscape of our route was more familiar than ever as I thought about how many times one of my parents ran Erika and me back and forth from the mall or the old movie theatre on that road. Strange how that simple familiarity made riding home with Troy feel right.
“So,” I pulled the bulk of my jacket closer to my body, “where is this top secret location you’re taking me?” The heat had yet to move through the cab of the truck, but I could feel it edging closer as it the blower tossed around a crucifix pendant hanging from the rearview mirror.<
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“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told, now would it?”
I pinched my lips and scowled at him in the dark. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”
The soft response of his laughter altered my scowl to a grin, and I momentarily eyed the seat I’d occupied snugly beside him the night before. After the amazing first kiss we’d just shared, all I could think about was getting close enough to him to do it again and again. I hadn’t been physically or emotionally close to anyone in so long that underlying my mixed emotions was a deep yearning to just give in. It was like a little voice on my shoulder whispering against everything I fought against all week.
Get close, it said, enjoy the moment and worry about the consequences come morning.
He took the turn just before Sonesville and as the brittle, tan stalks of corn began to rise on both sides of the road I realized we were heading toward his family’s farm.
“Now you gotta promise you won’t tell a single soul where I took you tonight,” he glanced across the truck, a mischievous grin already playing in the dark. “Not even Becky.”
“Scouts honor,” I held my right hand up, three fingers raised in the Girl Scout promise. “Though Becky has this way about her.”
“She does, does she?”
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a wonderful thing, but if Becky wants to know something, I’m just saying…”
Troy chuckled and shook his head, “You’ll have to work extra hard to keep this one from her.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised.
We’d been driving for about five minutes before he finally turned left into an off-road marked by large signs that read “Haunted Hayride.” The truck bounced over terrain clearly meant for a tractor or some heavier machine. “It’ll probably be a little bumpy,” he warned. “You might want to grab onto the panic handle.”
I reached up and gripped the leather hanger handle above my door, “My dad always called that the oh-shit bar.”
“That’s a good one,” he laughed. “I’ll have to remember that. Now, hold on tight because this next stretch is pretty bad.”
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