She quickly squelched the idea…she was no believer in Disney-Princess love.
“Ehhemmm!” She cleared her throat loudly and watched the girl’s eyes flutter just a bit at the unexpected noise, but even with the distraction her attention remained glued on her son. The situation would have been comical if it wasn’t growing so alarming. Finally, in desperation, Debbie reached out and touched the girl’s arm.
“Allyson?” She asked, on the verge of becoming truly uneasy.
Allyson jerked away and took several steps back, almost tripping on one of the old rockers that were nestled in the corner of the porch. She ripped her eyes away from the boy on the lawn, obviously distressed. She stared uncomprehendingly at Debbie for several seconds, quietly panting. She was clearly not acting. Debbie could see tiny beads of sweat popping out all over the girl’s forehead. Yes, it was hot, but not that hot!
“Hi Allyson. I’m Debbie…Debbie Wilder…I’m Betty and Leroy Good’s daughter,” she explained calmly. The girl had obviously received some kind of shock.
“Hi,” Allyson chirped and suddenly her face flushed red. “I’m…I’m sorry,” she added and shot a tentative glance back toward the boy standing in the yard. Her look lingered for several moments before she turned back toward Debbie, concern showing clearly on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated and turned to address Joe. “Have we met?” She asked unflinchingly, as she regained some her normal bravado.
Joe shrugged, struggling through many of the same questions.
“While my parents were alive, we came back to Iowa often,” Debbie explained, “it’s possible you two met as children during one of our visits,” she added. She racked her brain, trying to remember a time when she might have crossed paths with the Webb’s. Nothing came to mind; her father and Allyson’s grandfather didn’t always see eye to eye on the matter of the small creek that separated their respective farms…nothing overly dramatic, never truly a feud, just small ongoing disagreements. It was enough to keep neighbors from becoming friends.
“Maybe that’s it,” Allyson replied, and with obvious relief turned back to Joe. “I know you from somewhere,” she declared confidently and then with new found confidence headed for the front door.
“Here’s a set of keys,” she said and handed them over to Debbie, while slipping another one in the front door. The door, which was tall, wooden and obviously heavy, creaked slightly as it swung open, revealing a heavily carpeted living room.
“Coming Joe?” His mother asked. Joe took one last look at the horse and then bounded up the stairs and through the front door.
The living room was furnished with surprisingly modern leather furniture, nice, but clearly used. Typical of old farmhouses, the room was smallish and square, with a wide doorway on the left leading to the dining room, which was also furnished.
Allyson led them on a bubbly tour of a house she clearly loved, and why not, she’d grown up and spent nearly all of her childhood frolicking through the halls. She’d regained most of her composure as she led them enthusiastically from one room to the next. Joe followed closely behind the young girl and feigned curiosity so convincingly that even his mother half believed he was interested in the extra freezer,and the new curtains behind the sink. Debbie trailed along, keenly aware of the tension that still existed between the young people, even though both were trying very hard to play it off. She was a bit intrigued; she’d never witnessed her son flirting with a girl before, and much to her dismay, he was actually pretty good at it. Again and again he made witty remarks as they slowly meandered through the house, and for her part Allyson laughed a bit too loudly at every clever comment. It was nauseating.
The kitchen was large, clean and white. There was a big bedroom, which had been turned into a family room in the rear of the house, along with a mud room with a washer and dryer just inside the back door.
“The bedrooms are upstairs,” Allyson explained, and as she started up the stairs Debbie noticed that her fading jean shorts were far too short. She quickly pushed in behind the girl, trying to block the view of her tanned legs and tight little behind from her son. Debbie was positive she was not entirely successful. Allyson was swinging her hips for all she was worth; the obvious feminine sway was clearly aimed at the young man following along behind. Debbie smiled knowingly, quickly realizing that her own efforts were pointless. Her son was growing up quickly, and as they neared the top of the stairs Debbie actually chuckled aloud. The exaggerated movement of the girl’s hips called to mind some classic cartoons, particularly those of Bugs Bunny dressed up like a girl in order to fool ol’ Elmer Fudd. The two teenagers ignored her mirth and Debbie sighed.
There were three bedrooms and a full bath upstairs. There was no master bedroom per say, but one was clearly larger than the other two and would obviously be Debbie’s.
“This was my old room,” Allyson announced in one of the smaller bedrooms. She playfully spun around on the hardwood floor.
“You should take it,” she told Joe, who looked around with interest. There was a twin bed that sported a flowered comforter, a large dresser with a mirror and three empty bookcases. There was also a built-in, cushioned seat in the west window.
“I’d read here…and watch the sunset,” Allyson said running her fingers lightly along the dark green cushion. Debbie had little doubt which room her son would be taking from that point on. The two young people circled each other warily and Debbie once more vanished from their consciousness.
“My old bed,” Allyson informed Joe happily, and then sat down. She perched on the side for a moment before hopping her behind up and down on the mattress. “It’s comfortable. I still miss it sometimes, but Mom insisted on all new things when we moved into the new house.
“Come try it,” she encouraged Joe and patted the comforter next to her. Joe flushed and Debbie thought he’d chicken out, but her son courageously marched forward and took a seat next to Allyson. They completely ignored her and gazed at one another for a moment. Debbie could almost see the bubbles floating over their heads as they both imagined a host of different positions they might try out on the mattress. The atmosphere was quickly growing uncomfortable once again.
“Come on you two,” she piped up. “It’s getting late and we still need to eat.”
Joe and Allyson hesitated for just a moment then both stood at the same time. The springs of the bed groaned slightly, and Debbie hoped never to hear that sound again.
She led them back downstairs and out onto the porch where Allyson paused, clearly reluctant to leave.
“Your horse is great,” Joe commented…his first words in a while.
Allyson beamed and bounced down the porch stairs. “Grif’s wonderful!” She added, patting the horse’s neck. “You can borrow him sometime if you want,” she offered as Joe followed her over. “He just loves people.”
Joe hesitated for a moment, and Allyson grinned at him.
“Never ridden before?” She asked.
Joe shook his head immediately. “Not many horses in Chicago,” he explained and Allyson nodded sympathetically.
They fell silent for another long spell and Debbie thought about leaving them alone, but before she could, her son utterly shocked her.
“I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner. I’d like you to join us,” he admitted with surprising poise. He was gazing calmly down at the girl, a smoldering half-smile on his lips. Debbie was floored by the easy grace he displayed. By his own admission, girls were his bane…his kryptonite, and asking one out was the hardest thing in life to do. She hadn’t expected her own son to exude such James Bond-like assurance. She suddenly realized that, at seventeen, she would have been all but helpless in the face of such self-confidence. It was a sobering thought.
Allyson blushed profusely but smiled, and Debbie was quite certain they’d be having an extra guest for pizza.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, “Matt…my boyfriend’s, taking me out,” she added in a rush, he
r eyes firmly riveted on Joe’s Nikes. “He’s heading back to Iowa City tomorrow for football camp. He’s just back for a week.”
Debbie expected her son to be crushed, in fact her own heart constricted painfully in sympathy for him, but Joe’s grin broadened.
“Boyfriend?” He asked curiously. He laid a calm hand on Grif’s dark gray mane and began stroking the horse.
Allyson nodded meekly.
“Too bad,” Joe added and slowly moved back toward the porch. It was a brave display, but Debbie could clearly tell he was disappointed, wisely however, he wasn’t letting the girl see it.
‘My son, the lady’s man,’ she thought and smiled, though her heart was still aching for him.
Allyson climbed slowly onto the horse and for a moment Debbie’s heart ached for her as well. There was obviously a strong attraction between the two and only time would tell if this “Matt” was important enough to stand between them.
“Hey…” Allyson began haltingly. “You wouldn’t want to go riding tomorrow afternoon would you?” She asked, showing much less confidence in the asking.
Joe turned at the bottom of the stairs and gazed up at the girl now on horseback. He smiled, clearly delighted. He glanced quickly at his mom.
Debbie shrugged. “The truck’s not supposed to be here until Friday,” she told him, opening the way. Most of their things would be going into storage for the time being anyway.
“I’d love to,” he agreed and Allyson grinned, suddenly sitting up straighter.
“Great! Two o’clock?” She asked and then pulled Grif’s head around so forcefully that he did a big circle in the front yard.
“Perfect,” her stranger of a son answered.
Allyson waved enthusiastically, which Joe returned happily, as Grif turned and clomped away down the gravel driveway.
‘Matt doesn’t stand a chance,’ Debbie thought ruefully, and then wondered once again if that was a good thing.
♀
Debbie put down the book she was reading and watched through the front window as her son bolted out the door and across the porch. Allyson arrived right on time. Her hair was down today, shoulder length and held back by a bright blue headband that matched her halter top. The top was cute, had a collar and covered her torso completely while leaving her shoulders and arms bare. Debbie had to admit it was a good summer look, but after closer inspection she couldn’t be sure if the girl was wearing a bra. Debbie frowned. Allyson was wearing jean shorts, perhaps the same pair she had on the day before and Debbie’s frown deepened.
Belated she realized she would not be around if the young, fresh-faced Iowa girl began to swing her hips her son’s direction again. She almost got up to tell them to stay in sight of the house, but quickly quelled the desire. Joe was going to have to learn how to handle such advances; she just hoped he wouldn’t mistakenly make her a grandmother while he was learning.
“Hi!” Allyson greeted breathlessly. She was riding a smaller, brown horse and leading a saddled Grif behind her.
“Hello,” Joe replied from the top of the stairs. He ignored the horses for a moment and once more studied the girl smiling at him.
‘I know her,’ Joe’s mind insisted. He spent a good portion of the previous night lying in her old bed and trying to understand why he should believe such a thing was true. Perhaps they had met on an earlier trip to Iowa, but something inside told him that wasn’t quite correct. It was driving him a little crazy, almost like spotting an actor in a movie that you couldn’t quite place. At the worst times, the answer would hover in his mind just out of reach…until finally he’d call up Google on his phone.
‘Thank God for Google,’ he thought, and wistfully wished such a solution would work on Allyson.
“I brought you Grif,” she explained. “He’s gentle and easygoing. Marcie,” she added, indicating the smaller horse she was riding, “has a mean streak, especially if she doesn’t know you.”
Joe nodded and cautiously moved down the steps and over to Grif, still intimidated by the sheer size of the animal. He was huge.
“Grab the pommel, put your foot in the stirrup and pull yourself up,” Allyson instructed and suppressed a smile at Joe’s reticence. He reminded her of someone, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure out who it might be. She was up half the night trying to solve the mystery, before finally falling asleep frustrated.
Joe tentatively tried to follow her instructions. He put the wrong foot in the stirrup the first time, but quickly corrected the error, all while hoping Allyson wasn’t laughing inside. He finally managed to place the correct foot in the moving stirrup and swing up into the saddle. Once mounted, he beamed triumphantly at Allyson, who laughed good-naturedly at his obvious pride.
“Good,” Allyson encouraged happily, and Joe wondered how she made it look so easy with such short…tan legs.
“Ready?” She asked and Joe nodded, though he was not entirely sure it was the truth.
“Take hold of the reins and give a little kick like this,” she told him and then demonstrated the process with Marcie. Her horse immediately started across the yard while Allyson turned in the saddle to watch.
“Hey, I’m a big Clint Eastwood fan,” Joe said and rolled his eyes. Allyson laughed again. “Watch this,” he added then clicked his tongue and kicked Grif softly. By some miracle the big horse began to move and Joe silently blessed him.
“Impressive,” Allyson replied with mock admiration and it was Joe’s turn to laugh.
Debbie watched as they rode across the yard and out of sight around the house. She sighed. ‘Well now it’s up to Joe,’ she thought with a smile of her own. She sighed and then turned back to her book.
For the first time since their meeting, the girl left Joe’s mind completely, at least while he was concentrating on the moving animal beneath him. The horses walked slowly down the side yard and through the back. Allyson led them to a narrow dirt trail that ran parallel to the field of corn that ran right up to the back property.
“How are you doing?” Allyson asked and somehow slowed her horse until she was riding next to him.
Joe was just beginning to relax. Grif had an easy walk and there really was little danger that he would fall from the saddle, so he glanced at his new friend. She was smiling in the hot afternoon sun, small trails of sweat trickling down around the downy hair at the nape of her neck. Joe suddenly worried about his own profuse sweating, but smiled back in any case.
“I’m good,” he stammered, trying to recapture the confidence he’d discovered the day before. He was finding it hard; she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Wanna race?” Allyson teased and then laughed at Joe’s fearful expression. “Grif’s old and not much of a runner, but if you’re persistent you can coax him into a canter,” she added, the sun blazing down mercilessly.
Joe laughed and caught himself staring at the soft blonde hair on her arms.
‘Her arms are perfect!” He thought and then glanced up to see if she was watching him. She was.
“Is it hot like this in Chicago?” She asked and then cringed for bringing up the weather.
‘Some conversationalist!’ She thought, but Joe was happy with the question. It was an easy one.
“Sometimes,” he replied and then couldn’t think of anything to add. He groaned inwardly. While he silently struggled to think of something more to say, they reached a long stand of towering oaks that bordered the banks of a creek. Thankfully they moved under the protection of the trees, but to Joe’s surprise the shade did little to quell the heat. The day was very humid.
“Your family’s land is on the other side,” Allyson explained with a nod. “Funny, if your mom had stayed in Iowa you might be living on that side now.”
Joe frowned. It was kind of weird…and kind of fortunate. It was as if his mother went all the way to Chicago only to return so that he could sleep in Allyson’s old bed.
“Your bed was comfortable,” Joe told her and was surprisingly pl
eased when she flushed. They remained quiet for a time, turning north and riding beside the creek. It was wider than he expected and had more water. He’d envisioned a tiny trickle in an otherwise dried up bed.
They were both surprised that as the silence lengthened it did not turn tense; in fact, they both felt quite at ease in the silent company of the other, which was unexpected.
“He pretty much walks by himself,” Joe finally admitted of Grif. All he was really doing was sitting in the saddle; the horse followed the twist and turns of the trail on his own.
Allyson laughed. To Joe it was a joyous sound, like a child’s laugh to its mother.
“Grif’s been around the property a million times,” Allyson replied before reining Marcie to a stop and jumping off.
Joe pulled tentatively back on the reins and was gratified when Grif obeyed. “He’d circle around all by himself if you’d let him,” she added and loosely tied Marcie’s reins around a low hanging branch before glancing back up at Joe.
“It’s hot,” Allyson explained. “I want to swim.”
Joe glanced around, surprised by the suggestion, but then saw that they were on a high bank overlooking a natural swimming hole. The stream below was backed up by a line of small boulders and a tangle of thick tree roots. There was a large, but narrow, wooden deck jutting out over the water, while alongside a set of stairs led down to the water’s edge.
Joe climbed off the horse, which was much easier than getting on. He started to lead Grif over near Marcie, in order to tie him to the same branch.
“Don’t bother, he won’t go anywhere,” Allyson told him as she skipped playfully toward the bank.
“I didn’t bring my trunks,” Joe admitted and Allyson laughed. He followed Allyson out to the decking, slightly mesmerized. He stopped abruptly, just shy of the first wooden planks, suddenly suspecting that she meant to skinny dip. The thought filled him with terror.
One Life Well and Truly Promised Page 31