Chapter 13
13
Friday, July 4th
I chuckle at how prompt Jake is, parking his red truck on the curb exactly at seven-thirty.
Of course, he drives a big red pickup truck , I think, stepping out of my house and locking the door behind me.
A smile grows as I think about last night’s mission.
There’s an excitement bubbling inside me for this low-pressure date.
As I approach, I check him out in an army-green Marine’s shirt and black shorts.
“I wasn’t expecting your shorts to be shorter than mine,” I tease, trying to keep things light despite the butterflies.
I can’t believe he told me to get off with a toy last night, and that I did it.
Good girl.
I was not expecting him to be like that.
But I guess with the military, it tracks?
He laughs deeply.
“At least yours are tighter.” I look down at my bike shorts and a baggy shirt.
“Where’s my coffee?”
“In the truck,” he says, grabbing my hand and easing me toward him.
We share a sweet kiss until he tugs on my ponytail.
I pull back slightly, smiling entirely too much.
“Why’d you do that?”
“I love ponytails.”
Jake.
His flirtation feels easy, effortless.
With our fingers interlaced, we walk toward the truck, but my smile fades when I notice something in the back window—a black American flag with a red stripe window cling.
A Red Lives Matter sticker.
There it is—the red flag I was looking for .
A fucking literal red flag.
I pause, awkwardly standing outside the truck when he opens the door.
The sight of that sticker makes me go back to my immediate assumption.
He was in the military.
He’s a firefighter.
He has to have toxic masculinity and other associations.
I’ve been enjoying this—too much, probably—but now all I can think about is what that sticker might mean.
If we don’t talk about it now, it’s going to be on my mind the whole time we’re hanging out this morning.
“What’s up?” Jake asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.
I take a breath, deciding to confront it head-on before we end up in another location.
Depending on how he answers this, I can just turn around and head back inside.
“How, like, Red Lives Matter are you?”
Jake looks confused.
“I’m a firefighter?”
I point to the sticker.
“That has other meanings.” I cross my arms, raising my brows.
“Like?” He tilts his head.
“What are you getting at?”
Is he playing dumb or does he really not know?
“These flags with a colored stripe were in reaction to the Black Lives Matter movement and feel racist.”
“Are you asking me if I’m a racist?”
“Basically.”
“I’m not.”
I search his eyes, wanting to believe him.
There’s sincerity there, but I’m not sure if it’s enough.
“I give everyone a chance,” he adds, breaking the silence.
“I don’t approach anyone with preconceived notions. I let the scene and environment dictate my assumptions.” He pauses, and I keep staring into his eyes, hoping he means every word he’s saying.
“I don’t really forgive, though,” he adds.
“That’s something I should probably work on. Once someone crosses me, they’re dead to me.”
His words hang in the air, but I’m still unsure.
“Well, same here. But ...” I pause, taking a deep breath.
“My daughter is of South American descent, so I don’t tolerate racism. It’s a deal-breaker for me.”
“Roger that.”
This symbol still rubs me the wrong way .
“Do you really not know about the negative connotation?”
“I mean … the black flag with the red stripe has been around the entire time I’ve been a firefighter. So, it wasn’t created in response to recent political events. It was already there as a symbol of solidarity and support for firefighters. To me, at the station, with my peers, it’s a sign of bravery and sacrifice … like one of the guy’s wives bought all of us these stickers. I see it as a form of pride, but I’ll happily get more educated on the topic since it seems like you don’t see any of those things when you look at it.”
“I didn’t know it’s been around since before the BLM movement. We’ll both have to do more research on this topic then. But it still gives me the ick.”
Jake pulls me into a tight hug.
I let myself relax against him.
That conversation could have gone a lot of ways, but the fact that he said he will do more research gets him points.
Stepping back, I watch him bite his lip.
“What? Why are you biting your lip?”
“We’re talking about deal-breakers already.”
“I guess we’re talking about deal-breakers.” I laugh softly.
“What’s one of yours?”
“Well, no drugs. I have to be clean for my job, and even outside of that, I’m not into it.”
“I don’t do drugs, so no need to worry about that.”
“Cool,” he says, his smile returning.
“And ... I don’t want someone who plays games with me. Just be real. No games.”
“Got it. No games.” I pause, then add, “Anything else?”
He shrugs.
“That’s about it. What about you?”
I hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest.
“Like I said, racism is a deal-breaker. And I guess ... I don’t tolerate dishonesty. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.”
“You’re going to hate how painfully honest I can be.”
Jake leans in to kiss me, cupping my face, and the kiss feels like a promise for everything we’ve discussed.
I loudly exhale after our kiss ends.
“I guess you can play me some country music since we’re driving to the lake in your big ass truck.”
He chuckles, opening the door for me.
I step up and see the to-go coffee cup waiting in the cupholder.
Jake is a nice guy.
Innocent until proven guilty, versus the other way around.
He deserves a fair chance.
“Why are you so interested in being with a mess like me?” I ask after taking my first sip.
“I don’t think you’re a mess.”
“Are you lying already?”
“I think you’re strong, smart, tenacious, caring …” He starts the truck and squeezes my thigh.
“Sexy … you’re too gorgeous. I can’t get over it.”
I smirk, taking another sip of my drink, happy we’ve cleared the air.
I feel lighter, like I can actually enjoy the walk now.
“Are you wearing sunscreen?” I ask, knowing the answer will be no.
“No?”
“Strike one.”
“What?”
“You’ll have to take sun safety very seriously if we keep dating.”
“I’m guessing you burn easily.”
“Very. I will forever be as pale as a ghost. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Why would that be disappointing?”
“You find girls that glow in the dark sexy?”
He deeply laughs, shaking his head.
“I think we’ve established that I find you very sexy.” Sipping my drink, his hand rests on my thigh.
“I’ll happily rub you down anytime though.”
I roll my eyes.
“Corny, I know but I like how big your smile is right now.”
I smirk, then stare out the window as we approach, seeing the public beach and Geneva Lake.
“How many miles are you thinking?” he asks, turning off the truck.
“How about let’s walk for thirty minutes and then reassess?”
“Works for me.”
We hop out of the truck, and he grabs for my hand.
“We’re going to hold hands the whole time?” I ask, a bit shocked.
“You’re giving me mixed signals here like you want more attention but then when you get it you fight it.”
He’s right.
“I like the attention.” I squeeze his hand, and we make our way onto the path.
The sun’s up for the day and it’s already in the seventies.
“You’re working tonight?”
“Yeah. I have to be on the fireboat by seven.”
“Cool.”
“If you don’t hate me after this walk, let’s get brunch somewhere?”
“That sounds great.” I smile up at him, looking forward to getting to know him more on this walk.
Curious, I ask, “Why did you enlist?”