The Understorey

Page 22


“Darn,” Jules whispered my unspoken thought.

“Hi, Mr. Jacobs,” I said.

“Hello Elliott, thank you for bringing Jules home on time.”

“Of course,” I said and walked the few feet back to my truck to grab Jules’ bag from the bed.

She turned her back toward her dad and held out her hand for it. She squeezed my hand when she took it from me and winked.

“See you at church tomorrow,” she said.

“See ya’,” I said, not wanting to leave, wishing we could sit on her porch and talk and kiss until the sun rose.

I turned toward my truck and felt Jules’ eyes return to her father’s.

“Did you have fun?” He asked her as I counted the sounds of each step she took up her porch.

I could hear every word.

“I did, thank you for asking pop.”

“Did you kiss ‘em?” He teased.

“Dad! Stop it!” Jules’ voiced trailed off before the door closed.

I shook my head and laughed as I shoved the keys into the ignition and drove the two miles to my parents' farmhouse. When I got home my dad was in the red barn refinishing some old doors he found in a nearby junkyard to replace two of the interior doors of the house. My truck bit at the popping gravel driveway as I parked it just outside the barn. The door squeaked open before I slammed it shut.

“Hey dad,” I said, pulling my fingers through my hair.

“Hey son,” he said, glancing up at me, “did you have fun?”

“I did, dad. I really did.”

“I can tell,” he laughed.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” My eyes wide as saucers.

“Your lips son, their swollen, from kissing I assume.”

I pressed my lips together before lifting a finger to feel them. They were definitely raw but I didn’t know that was visible to the world.

“Yeah, well,” was all I could say.

“As long as it’s just kissing, I don’t have a problem with it. You just make sure it’s only that. Keep your hands in your pockets if you have to. You hear me?”

“Yes sir.”

If I had revealed why I so adamantly agreed with him, he wouldn’t have believed me. I wouldn’t have done anything to Jules that I wouldn’t want done to my own daughter. Jules was precious to me.

“Get any homework at all done?”

“Yes sir, probably not as much as I should have but enough. The paper’s not due for two weeks yet. I’m in pretty good shape.”

“Good. Good,” he said, sanding off some old red paint. “Well you better get yourself into that house son. Your mama’s been waiting all day to talk to you.”

“Okay dad. Need any help?”

“Nope. Now get.”

I walked up the little hill my house sat on top of and thought of how Jules was safely becoming a permanent fixture in my life. When I entered through the kitchen, my mom was at her huge ceramic farm sink, peeling potatoes for Sunday’s potato salad. When she saw me she threw down her peeler and wiped her hands on a blue and white dishtowel.

“Hey mama,” I said and began to walk the kitchen stairs to my room.

“Wait Elliott. Tell me. How did it go baby?”

“It went extremely well mom. I had the most fun day of my life today. Julia Jacobs is an incredible girl.”

“Land alive! I don’t believe I would have ever heard anything like that come from your mouth Elliott Gray. You are a such mystery to me!”

I fought the smile trying to escape my lips and peered down at the step my feet were resting on. I turned around and sat down on the third step while she went back to peeling.

“So? You gonna’ make me pry every detail from you? For heaven’s sake Elliott! You are just like your daddy.”

“Who is?” Said Maddy as she rounded the corner and pulled herself onto the counter beside my mom.

“Your brother is. What are you doing out of bed young lady?” When Maddy ignored her, she went on, “He went on a date with Julia Jacobs today and is bein’ stingy with the details.”

“Eww!” Maddy said, jumping off the counter. “That’s what you’re talking about? I’m out of here. Who wants to hear about Elliott sucking face with Julia Jacobs!”

Maddy ran up the kitchen stairs and down the hall to her room, closing her door behind her. I brought my stare up from my feet and saw my mom laughing.

“Dad must have told her,” I said.

“So you’ll tell your daddy but not your mama?” She teased.

“It’s not exactly something you go around boasting about mom! Plus, I didn’t tell dad. He guessed.”

“He did? How did he do that?”

“Never mind. I’ll be in my room.”

“Okay son. I’ll just get the details from your daddy then.”

“Okay mom,” I laughed.

I closed my bedroom door behind me and fell onto my bed, too happy to move anymore. I leaned over and grabbed my remote from my nightstand to turn on my stereo. Portishead’s ‘Glory Box’ began to play and while Beth Gibbons soothed the edges of my live-wire heart, I replayed everything that had happened that day and smiled at every torturous detail. Damn if Jules wasn’t going to be a very big part of my life.

Julia Jacobs was going to be my future and I was going to be hers.

The next day my mom knocked on my door to wake me for church. I found myself really alert, more alert than I was used to being on a weekend morning. Mornings weren’t exactly my favorite part of the day, but knowing I’d be able to hold Jules’ hand in a little over an hour made it more than tolerable. I showered, ate breakfast, readied myself quickly and was ready to leave in less than half an hour. I was tired of waiting on my parents and Maddy so I yelled at the kitchen door to let everyone know I’d meet them there, that I was going on ahead of them.

“Save us a pew!” My dad yelled.

“Okay!”

I was out the door and in my truck in less than ten seconds and at the church in less than five minutes. I sat inside the almost empty church alone. I kept glancing over my shoulder. I sort of had hoped Jules would have shown up a little earlier so I could get looking at her out of my system and could concentrate. No sooner had I thought this did she walk in, on her own, and strolled down the center aisle of the nave toward me.

She was breathtaking, again, and I didn’t think I was ever going to get used to the way she looked. She was so charming. She wore a dress that looked to be straight out of a Grace Kelly movie, green and white striped. She wore pristine white gloves that barely reached the bottom of her wrist where they buttoned with little pearls. Her bangs swept to one side of her forehead and her long curled hair fell at points at her waist. The only thing missing to complete the look was her hand anchoring a wide brimmed hat to her head and maybe her eyes squinting in the sun.

“Uh, I....I,I.....Uhh” I stuttered, when she sat next to me.

The bell of her dress fanned around her when she sat and blew her heavenly scent my direction. I shook my head to regain control.

“Hi Elliott.”

“Where are your parents?” I asked, trying to talk about anything but the blindingly obvious fact that she was too gorgeous for words.

“They’re on their way. I drove my own car so I could see you.”

Beautiful and eager to see me. A deadly combination.

“Me too,” I said, trying not to stare, “I’m glad you did.”

I grabbed her gloved hand and the piece of cloth separating our skin did nothing to stifle the sudden lightning bolt billowing over the pews surrounding us.

“You look nice,” she said with a wink.

“You look,” I gulped, “dazzling.”

“Thank you dear,” she smiled and it touched her eyes. “Think you could stifle what you’re feeling?”

I swallowed and dropped her hand, “That’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s just, well you’re making me feel the same thing,” the church doors opened and she spun around. “Oh, my mom and dad are here,” she said turning back around. “I’ll see you afterwards. Want to eat lunch at the rock bridge?”

“Don’t want to eat lunch at Babe’s with the rest of the parish?” I asked, puzzled.

“Not today. I’d prefer a picnic in the forest Mr. Gray.”

“Sounds perfect,” I said but as she began to walk away, I called her back to me, “Oh, Jules?”

“Yes babe?” She asked, leaning into the pew.

“Pray for me,” I said with a wink.

She rolled her eyes at me and shook her head but couldn’t hide her smile. I watched as she joined her family wishing I could sit next to her as well but satisfied just to be in the same room with her. Just looking at her, I knew that Julia Jacobs was definitely my past, my present, and very much my future.

I’m going to marry that girl one day.

After church, I hopped in my truck and followed Jules home. Turns out, she had a basket already packed. I drove the winding path to the dirt patch free of trees on the side of the road nearest our rock bridge. When I parked, I got out and immediately started loosening my tie. I swung my jacket over the seat, untucked my shirt, and rolled up my sleeves.

“Ahh, that’s much better,” I said. Jules gaped at me. “What?” I asked.

“So quick to undress around me Gray? You should probably check yourself before you wreck yourself.”

“Oh, whatever. You love it. I can see the twinkle in your eye from here.”

“You’re a flirt Gray.”

“No, I’m a tease. There’s a difference,” I joked, hunched over, untying my shoes and throwing on the extra pair of Converse I kept in the cab of my truck.

She laughed out loud, “That’s so? You should probably get your own soundtrack then.”

“I have one.”

“Oh yeah? What song?”

“‘Peanut Butter Jelly Time.”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

“Ready?”

“Yup.”

I had Jules walk ahead of me so I could make sure she was always steady on her feet. She had taken off her heels and I worried she might hurt herself.

“Please let me carry you Jules. It’s not even a quarter mile away.”

“No, sweets. I got it.”

“Please Jules, I’m afraid you’ll step on a piece of glass or something. Jesse and his friends always drink out here. I know they leave their bottles laying around.”

“No, I’ve got it,” she insisted.

She took three additional steps before she gasped and grabbed at her foot.

“See Jules! That’s it. You’re so stubborn. Even as a kid you were always so stubborn.”

I handed the basket to her and scooped her into my arms. She held the little basket in her lap with her right hand and her heels dangled from her left, cluttering against one another with each step I took.

“It was just a small stick Elliott. There’s no need to carry me, really.”

“Give me a break Jules. I’d want to do this even if you were wearing hiking boots. I consider your Sunday attire a lucky break on my part.”

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