A Notion of Love Page 3

  Jackie groaned from the bed. “Hey, I said I was sorry.”

  Jo turned back to him, her cheeks flushed with a look I knew well. She snapped, “Dammit, Jackson! You promised you wouldn’t do this stupid shit anymore! Are you in seventh grade?”

  Jackie closed his eyes and even I could tell he was trying to amp up the pitiful look so Jo would quit yelling at him.

  “Jills, you need a ride home?” Justin asked then. “I was just gonna head out. They discharged me but Jackie’s gotta stay the night.”

  I turned to my sister, who was again smoothing Jackie’s hair. I asked, “You want me to stay, Joey?”

  She shook her head. “No, but thanks, Jills. I’ll stay here for awhile.”

  I hugged her hard and Justin said, with the kind of affectionate undertone guys use when they care about each other and rely on insults to show it, “Sleep tight, dumbass.”

  Justin and I said good-night to Pat and then walked out into the night together in silence. He led the way to his truck. I was surprised when he opened the door for me and then remembered Aubrey, his girlfriend who was in my grade, talking about him being a gentleman like that. But it made sense, because Dodge was that type, too.

  “Thanks,” I told him, climbing up. After he’d slid behind the wheel and gunned the truck to life I asked, “Do your parents know you guys are here?”

  “Yeah, Mom freaked out a little, but I told her I just got a few stitches,” he said, driving us out of the lot. Rose Lake was a pretty town, just a little bigger than Landon.

  “So, where did you guys fall off the train?” I asked him, watching his profile for a moment.

  “Shit, somewhere just outside of town, luckily. I told Jackie it was the last time we were hitching a ride the last time we did it, but he’s gotten all sentimental these last few months, what with school ending and moving away and everything. He wants to do everything we used to do one last time. Especially now that he’s been accepted to Northwestern.”

  This fact frightened me to no end; Jo had sobbed for over two hours after Jackie had received his acceptance letter, though not in his presence. I was terrified that somehow he would convince her to join him, even though Jo hadn’t applied to college there. Just the possibility of her moving that far away made my soul feel like shriveling.

  “Then we had to fucking walk back to town to get my truck,” Justin was saying, laughing a little. “Jackie was in so much pain that I drove him right to the hospital and then called Greg and Pat. Greg wasn’t home, but Pat rushed right over and then I figured I better call home since there’s no way they wouldn’t find out anyway. Shit, Dad’ll hide me for being so dumb.”

  I giggled a little. “I can’t imagine him getting so mad.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Justin teased easily, driving with his right hand on the bottom of the wheel, the other sticking straight out the open window. It was a gorgeous evening and I rolled mine down all the way, too, letting the spring air rush into the truck. No matter that my hair would be a squirrel’s nest when we got back to Shore Leave. He added, “When I was a kid I got spanked all the time. Liz only did once, but she’s a quick learner.”

  “I guess Aubrey has mentioned that you like to be spanked,” I heard myself teasing him, and immediately flushed, glad suddenly for the darkness. Now why had I said that? Aubrey (who I honestly thought was a gigantic bitch, though I would never tell him) did like to brag about Justin’s prowess, but she’d never actually mentioned spanking.

  “What?” he yelped, but he was laughing. “You are so shitting me.”

  I was laughing then too, embarrassed but unable to go back on what I’d said now. Maybe a little devil had hopped onto my shoulder, maybe I secretly relished being alone with popular Aubrey Pritchard’s boyfriend in his truck, but I added, “Yeah, she’s pretty descriptive, too.”

  Justin laughed even harder. “Whatever, Jillian, you are so pulling my leg.”

  I shrugged as though unconcerned. Shit, now what if he confronted her and then she confronted me? I momentarily imagined this scenario and then pictured hiding behind Joelle at school, like a little kid. We reached Landon five minutes later and Justin turned onto Fisherman’s and then left around Flickertail, out towards Shore Leave. There were still a few customer cars in the lot, probably just people hanging around the bar. All of the porch lights were glimmering and I could see Gran and Minnie having a smoke at their usual table. Justin sat with his wrists hanging over the top of the steering wheel and I said, “Well, thanks for the ride.”

  He gave me an indulgent grin, the kind you’d give a baby sister. He said, “No problem, kiddo.” Like I wasn’t the same age as his girlfriend. But Aubrey was light-years ahead of me in both confidence and attitude; it was actually better than being called ‘tomboy,’ which had been his perennial nickname for me in the past. One of several. Not that I cared.

  I hopped out of the truck and slammed the door just a little harder than necessary. Justin drove away and I climbed the steps under the shrewd gazes of both Gran and Great-Aunt Minnie.

  “Where’s your sister?” Gran asked just as Minnie commented, “You two took off awfully fast.”

  I sighed and sank to a chair to join them, suddenly exhausted. I said, “Jackie fell off the train and is in the hospital in Rose Lake.”

  Mom would have freaked out, despite the fact that my tone didn’t exactly suggest a need to panic. Gran squawked a laugh and Minnie casually blew a smoke ring; she’d tried to teach me, but I had yet to master the art. Gran asked, “How’d you end up with the boy?”

  Everyone called Justin ‘the boy,’ like he was still seven years old. He had never seemed inclined to mind, and I laughed to myself, hoping he was driving home pondering why Aubrey would be telling people that he liked to be spanked.

  “Justin was with him. He actually brought Jackie to the hospital and of course Jo wanted to stay longer, so I hitched a ride,” I explained. “Jackie is a little banged up, but otherwise just fine.”

  Mom stuck her head out the porch door and confirmed, “I just got off the phone with Patricia. Seems like the boys were getting into trouble again.” She sounded affectionate, as though they’d toilet-papered a yard rather than risked their lives. But that was Jackson, always pushing things and talking everyone around him into doing the same thing.

  “You getting excited for the prom?” Minnie asked then. She grinned at me, drawing her braid over one shoulder with her free hand and twisting its length. “Joanie showed me your dress, doll. I love that color. Reminds me of a skirt I had once upon a time.”

  “I wanted blue,” I told her. “But this one is pretty. I think I’ll wear my hair up in a twist.”

  “I can help you with that,” Minnie went on. “We’ll get some roses for your hair.”

  “Why in the hell would Joelle choose a black dress for a school dance?” Gran wondered aloud.

  “It’s stylish,” I replied.

  Gran harrumphed and lit another cigarette.

  “So what’s your fella doing this evening?” Minnie asked, anchoring her smoke between her teeth and beckoning to me. I turned my chair so she could have access to the back of my head, and she proceeded to play around with fixing my hair.

  “Helping his dad clean out their garage,” I told her, little shivers racing over my scalp as she worked. I loved having my hair touched. Chris loved to run his hands through it, wrap its length around his fingers. He told me once I looked like a mermaid, with her hair trailing all along her waist.

  “He’s a kind boy,” Minnie said. “He’s good for you, Jilly Rae.”

  I smiled and said, “I think so, too.”

  She released my hair and cupped my temples for a moment, lightly, her hands going at once still. I was facing away, so her expression was hidden from me. Instead I studied Flickertail as night descended over its surface, turning the water to ink. Above our heads, silhouetted against the silvering sky, brown bats began to appear, fluttering around in their choppy, erratic flight, fe
asting on the wealth of mosquitoes. My great-aunt’s hands were gentle against my skull; I waited patiently. At last she sat back with a small, soft sigh and pronounced, “You’ll be all right.”

  I knew better than to ask her what she meant; if she wanted me to know, she would tell me. Minnie had always known things. The expression she used was having ‘a Notion.’ I always thought of the word with a capital letter and I’d never questioned her statements, because they’d always proven true. And besides, I had Notions too. Never when I expected, never when I tried to force it; the knowing would hit me with the unexpected nature of a lightning flash in the distance, on a night you thought was only clear. Or, more often, I would have a dream. The first time it happened I’d told Minnie, no one else. I had been six and dreamed that a white tree had fallen onto the café, smashing through the roof. Just a nightmare, Mom would have assumed. Except that it wasn’t. It was more, and I could only explain that I’d known this in my gut. Minnie had listened, holding me tightly on her lap, brushing the sweaty hair back from my temples as I described the dream. By morning I’d all but forgotten; Minnie, however, had walked around the café with a critical eye and later that day she’d arranged for the ancient birch tree near the north side of the building to be removed.

  I curled my hands around my knees as she resumed playing with my hair. She’d said I would be all right, and I trusted that, whatever she meant exactly. But there was a sadness flowing from her fingers that I didn’t understand, and again, I knew better than to ask.

  Chapter Three

  April, 1985

  “I’m so glad it’s not raining yet,” Jo said, her golden-green eyes scanning the sky. We’d spent over two hours getting ready for prom, crammed into our tiny bathroom while bruise-colored clouds amassed on the western horizon. The air was still and carried a sharp scent of moisture; a fine mist hovered just over Flickertail, beautiful and ghost-like. The birds were singing madly in anticipation of the storm. Fine for them, but I would be pissed as hell if a downpour ruined my hair before Chris saw it. I smiled again at my reflection and the song on the radio switched from “White Wedding” to “Open Arms.” Later we would be dancing to this very song at our first prom; last year, as sophomores, we hadn’t been allowed to go.

  Minnie, as promised, had pinned and twisted my hair into what she called a chignon, with small trailing curls picked out to hang along my temples. Jo helped me with my make-up after applying her own, and I’d zipped into my dress with a sense of giddy delight. Again I stroked the shiny magenta material over my hips, imagining Chris’s hands doing the same thing, and then spent a moment admiring my sister, who looked amazing, as usual. Her long, blond hair was silken-straight, smoothed to a gloss over her bare shoulders. She’d vamped up her eyeliner more than usual and Ellen had helped her with the false eyelashes that no one but Jo could have pulled off. Her dress was just bordering on slutty, but I would never dream of telling her so, because she looked fantastic and part of me was proud to have a sister who looked so sexy. She sat on the edge of the tub to twine the straps of her shoes around her ankles before fastening them.

  “You look so pretty, Jilly Bean,” she said.

  “You, too,” I said, and she gave me her sauciest grin.

  “‘Pretty’ wasn’t exactly the look I was going for,” she teased. “But thanks.”

  “Girls, your fellas are here!” Minnie was leaning around the stairwell to inform us.

  My heart tripped and then took up a pulsing beat.

  “Come on, let’s go have fun,” Joelle said, giving herself one last look in the mirror.

  ***

  After a thousand pictures and hugs and admonishments to be careful and responsible, the four of us hurried through the parking lot to the guys’ respective vehicles. Jackie had borrowed his dad’s black Buick instead of making Jo ride to the dance in his dirty old truck. We agreed to grab a bite to eat at Landon’s only other sit-down restaurant, which was located in the Angler’s Inn. It featured fish, just like Shore Leave, but was a step above in atmosphere; most of our classmates would also be dining there this evening, unless they ventured over to Bemidji, the closest big town. Although in this case, ‘big’ was a relative term.

  “We’ll catch up with you two after we stop for pictures at Jackie’s,” Jo said as we parted ways in the parking lot.

  Jackie came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and lightly bit the side of her neck. He murmured, “Damn, you look fucking good.”

  “Stop it, you’ll mess up my hair,” she complained to him. Chris squeezed my hand extra tight, letting me know without words that he would have expressed the same sentiment but was far too much of a gentleman to put it like that. Jackie had zero manners, but Jo never seemed to truly mind.

  “We’ve gotta stop by my folks’ too,” Chris explained.

  “See ya!” they called, scampering into Jackie’s dad’s car like puppies.

  Chris opened the door for me and then hurried around the front of the car. Once inside he grinned over at me, his beautiful eyes sparkling with all of the colors that flashed beneath the surface, like a woodland pond in the afternoon sun. He looked so good in his rented tuxedo that my breath felt lodged somewhere behind my heart. For a long moment we stared at each other and then in that instant the clouds parted somewhere above, just enough to allow for a radiant beam of red-gold afternoon light to tint the air around us like a benediction. I leaned over to kiss him, not caring that my carefully-applied lipstick would be gone. He cupped my jaw with his right hand and kissed me back, trailing his fingers over my neck. He always touched me like I was made of something so delicate, like porcelain.

  “I can’t wait until we’re dancing at our own wedding,” he said then. We had been talking about getting married so often that his folks, especially, took it as a foregone conclusion. Again I had such a strong sense of us together, being truly bound by marriage, and I almost shuddered with its force.

  “Me, neither, Chris,” I said, and pulled him back into another kiss.

  ***

  We caught up with Jo and Jackie two hours later and followed them to the high school. We entered the gym, where a DJ was playing “Dancing in the Dark” by Bruce Springsteen.

  “Come on!” Jo insisted, and Jackie grumbled but followed her willingly enough.

  Chris and I hung back a little; he kept my hand firmly in his grasp, rubbing the back with his thumb.

  “You want to join them?” he asked.

  “Let’s wait for the first slow one,” I told him, looking around at the decorations. “So the theme is Midnight in Paris?”

  Chris laughed as he too looked around; for whatever reason, our student government thought that meant a color scheme of pink and black, and there was a wrought-iron Eiffel Tower near the punch table, which I knew Laura Henry’s father had made just for the dance. We were about to grab some punch when the song switched to “Almost Paradise,” and Chris hauled me onto the dance floor and wrapped me into his arms. I snuggled against him and slipped my arms around his neck while his hands smoothed the material low on my back. He smiled into my eyes. Because it was prom, they played three slow songs in a row. When we danced past Jo and Jackie, Jo said, “Chris, I want to dance one with you,” and so we swapped partners.

  Jackie gave me a big-brother sort of grin and said, “Hey there, Dilly Bar.”

  “Ugh, I hate that nickname,” I told him. Jackie just laughed, of course.

  “I can’t believe you guys are graduating,” I told him, again gloomy at the prospect.

  “God, I can’t wait,” Jackie said. “Bust out of Landon, finally.”

  As long as Joelle was safe here, I didn’t care if that was his attitude. But then he went on, “Maybe Jo and I will settle here eventually. After I come home from college.”

  “Will you marry her?” I asked, studying him intently.

  “That’s my plan,” he said easily, looking over at my sister as Chris spun her around. He smiled and said, “I love her. I
’m not ready to get married, but Jo isn’t either. It’s not like we don’t talk about these things, you know.”

  He sounded serious for once, and I peered up at him, but at that moment we danced near Justin and Aubrey and I had a flash of anxiety, recalling suddenly the whole spanking thing…me and my big mouth. But Aubrey gave us a big smile; well, she gave Jackie a smile and ignored me. She seemed pretty tipsy, her arms around Justin, who had lost his bow-tie somewhere. The top two buttons of his white dress shirt were open. Aubrey’s dress was covered in turquoise sequins, almost like a mermaid.

  “Feel this dress, Jack, for real,” Justin said, indicating Aubrey’s waist.

  “It’s like sweaty scales,” Jackie said, rubbing his hand lightly over the material.

  “Justin won’t quit bitching about it,” Aubrey said, rolling her eyes. “Trade for a minute, you guys,” she ordered, moving into Jackie’s arms next while Justin and I stood looking at each other for a moment of total awkwardness before he gathered himself and drew me into his arms. He held me as though we were doing an old-fashioned sort of waltz, rather than with my arms around his neck.

  “So your stitches got removed,” I said, the first thing that popped into my mind.

  Despite the fact that I’d known him my entire life, Justin seemed oddly self-conscious. He finally said, “Yeah.” And then, “You look nice, Jilly.”

  I looked up at him; he was taller than me by a good six or seven inches. His dark eyes skimmed to mine and then away almost instantly. I was mildly confused by this, considering how he was normally at ease with me, and felt free to tease; I studied him for a moment, his black hair and eyebrows and tan skin set off by the crisp white of his shirt. I could feel his shoulders shifting as we danced to “Islands in the Stream.” Finally I realized that he’d complimented me and said, “Thanks.”

  His lips curved up a little then, seeming slightly more like his old teasing self, and then the song ended, thankfully. Chris had found us in the crowd and swept me into his arms, where I went gladly.

  “Jilly Bean, let’s get some punch,” he said, spinning me in a circle before adding, “Hi, Justin.”