Page 35 of Seashells and Other Souvenirs
I hadn't expected the onslaught of emotion when my family exited the seafood place this afternoon, hugged me goodbye, then drove away in dozens of cars. I stood there on the sidewalk between one part of my world and another before driving back across the bridge.
My dad had been especially stoic, telling me how much he loved me as he pulled me into his embrace. My mom was teary but beaming. And my cousins . . . I’m not sure any of us wouldn’t have given just about anything for another day together.
“Sleepover at Sutton’s before I fly out,” Elle said. “You’ll be there?”
“Of course.”
Rebekah had held on to me the longest until Elias honked the horn of her car and waved her over. “Why did I agree to let him drive back?” she complained, then kissed my cheek once more before jogging off.
Chris pulled up next to the curb, and Sutton’s window rolled down. “Listen.” I walked over and she narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to give you space to enjoy this time with Jude, okay? But I need you to do two things for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I laughed and waited for her to go on. I was expecting a lecture about not breaking his heart or figuring out where the relationship was going.
Instead, she said, “Don’t get in your own head, Alex. There’s no script for falling in love. I know how you overthink. Just take it a day at a time and let this be what it is, okay? Let yourself be happy.”
I nodded. “And the second thing?”
“If you need anything, or just someone to listen, call me.”
“Promise.”
I’d spent the rest of the day with Kelsey and Donovan.
I was relieved when Jude came home from work and everything felt normal.
The four of us ate a late dinner of pizza and watched a movie before Jude read Donovan a bedtime story while Kelsey and I cleaned the kitchen.
Then she and Jude and I talked for hours in the living room like we were every bit as much family as the people I just vacationed with.
Now, I’m back in Kelsey’s old room, sitting on the bed scrolling through beach week photos and trying to decide if I should sleep or tiptoe down to my regular spot at the kitchen counter.
I’ve tried to tell myself that I’m just being respectful of Jude’s space and the fact that dynamics have changed since last week; there are twice as many people living here now.
But the truth is, I’m scared. Nervous that something has shifted and that things won’t be the same between us now.
What if we’ve lost something we can never get back?
Sighing, I reach for the band sweatshirt that was folded neatly on the corner of the dresser when I moved back in this afternoon.
I know he’s at the counter before I even make it halfway down the stairs, and his hopeful eyes are fixed on me as I step into the living room and cross it to the kitchen. Just being in the same room, seeing him somewhere other than my mind, puts me at ease.
The notebook and a pen are already lying in my spot next to an unopened bottle of water. It’s a simple gesture, but it makes me feel special to know he hoped I’d come down.
He focuses back on his laptop, and we fall into our rhythm. His keyboard clicks. My pen scratches across paper. The green numbers on the microwave clock count forward. My heart rests, feels comfortable enough to start untangling the thoughts swirling around my mind.
When I finish scribbling, I slide the open book next to his computer.
Petrichor
It hasn’t rained in over a week
But the memory lingers
Of that cold night
That’s kept me warm
These long, sunny days
It smells like towels
Washed in familiar detergent
And heat blowing from car vents
A half-eaten bag of fruity gummy bears
Abandoned in a fort
And the hot cocoa I’m still owed
He doesn’t answer my written words with spoken ones, but his lips curl upward and he stands to turn the stove on and pull two mugs from the cabinet.
“Want to come out to the garage and help me pack up the tackle box?”
Donovan is out of his chair before Mr. Bruce even finishes the question. He’s been talking about going fishing with him ever since he woke up this morning.
“I’m so glad it worked out for all of you to join us for church and lunch.” Mrs. Becky smiles across the mostly empty dishes of pot roast and potatoes.
Jude stands and reaches for my plate.
“No, honey; you don’t need to do that,” Mrs. Becky says. “Tyler will get those.”
Tyler makes a face but kisses his mom’s head as he rises to help Jude clear the table. “Housework and fishing lessons? Y’all are keeping me busy today.”
“Alex, you’re welcome to stay and hang out with me and Kelsey while the boys fish.
” Mrs. Becky is helping Jude’s sister research job openings and apartment listings this afternoon.
Kelsey told me last night that between spending time with a healthy, loving family last week and Jude showing Donovan how a good man treats people, she can’t imagine moving back to Wilmington.
“I think I’ll ride back with Jude, but if you end up going to look at anything tomorrow afternoon, Kels, I can watch Donovan for you.”
Jude reenters the room and stands behind my chair, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I should probably head back soon to get changed. You ready to go?”
“Wait.” Mrs. Becky jumps up. “Let me wrap up some of this pie for you to have later.”
Jude and I walk to the door, stopping to call a quick goodbye into the garage. Mrs. Becky meets us there. She tucks a plastic container into Jude’s hands and squeezes his arm. “It sure is good to see you so happy.”
“It’s hard not to be happy when someone’s just handed you pie.” He winks at me, and I marvel again at what an idiot I’ve been all these years.
In the driveway, he passes me the container and opens the passenger door for me. I watch him jog around to the other side, fasten his seatbelt, and rest an arm on the back of my seat as he backs out and puts the car in drive. I don’t realize I’m staring until he smiles and asks, “What?”
“I wish you didn’t have to go to work this afternoon.” I place my arm on the console between us, a subtle invitation, I hope.
His hand finds mine. “You and me both.”
“Will you teach me to fish this week?”
“I would love to take you fishing. But I think we should go in the fall.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “Fall fish are better?”
“No.” His eyes flicker to the side and then back to the road. “I just think it might be nice if we make a list of things to do later. I want to give you every possible reason to come back and visit me.”
Out of nowhere, a wave of panic rolls through me. I can feel my whole body tense.
He tugs on my hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I exhale and take a moment to make sure I say only what I mean. “You know how I have trouble sometimes living too much in the past?”
“And I have trouble sometimes living too much in the future?” He pulls out onto the main road.
“Sorry. It’s just that for so long I always needed something to look forward to.
I didn’t mean to make it sound like right now isn’t enough.
Because, in all honesty, this is more than I could have ever asked for, Alex. ”
I wrap my free hand around his arm. “There’s nothing wrong with looking forward to things. I just get freaked out sometimes if I start to think too far ahead, and then I spiral. It’s my problem, not yours. I’m working on it. But, you know. Baby steps.”
We ride in silence for a minute, and I wonder what’s going on inside his head.
I don’t have to wait long. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” he says.
“To what?”
“To you liking me.” He holds up our hands. “Like this.”
I more than like him. But he has no idea. “You should probably get used to it,” I tell him. “Because we’re going on a date this week.”
“Oh, that’s this week?” he teases.
I feign offense and start to pull my hand away, but he tightens his grip. “You know I’m kidding. I’ve been counting down the minutes.”
“Me too,” I admit. “See? Something I’m looking forward to in the future.”
He smiles. “I just hope it lives up to your expectations.”
“If it involves you and me spending time together, it’s already the best date I’ve ever been on.”
“Good.” He turns into the driveway. “Pie in the kitchen while we work tonight?”
I reluctantly let go of his hand. “I’ll be there.”