36. Darcy
THIRTY-SIX
DARCY
Night has settled in, and everything about the evening is beautiful. I’m sitting on a blanket with Jake, Becca, and Brianna, all of us occasionally joining in singing the campfire songs.
Becca’s got her head in Bri’s lap, and Bri strokes her hair. I know what they’re doing is just fun for this weekend, but it’s sweet nonetheless.
I could be doing that too. Getting affection. Everything about me wants to give in. To let myself be loved. Maybe not loved, but like Bri said, adored.
I shiver and Jake’s arm goes around my shoulders. “Cold?”
“A little.”
Jake’s got a sweatshirt on, something he grabbed out of the cabin when the sun passed over and the evening’s chill set in. I already gave out every sweatshirt and blanket I could find in the house. Jake shuffles, his abs flashing as he lifts his shirt overhead. “Here.”
“You’ll be cold,” I argue.
Jake rolls his eyes. “I’ll survive. Arms up, boss.”
I do and Jake pulls his Marshall Engineering sweatshirt over my head. Before my head pops out the hole, I want to burrow down in it. Jake’s scent surrounds me and it’s pre-warmed. I can’t stop myself from hugging my own arms after I get it on and scrunching my shoulders. “So cozy.”
Jake kisses my temple and tugs me closer, and I’m sorry, but what is probation again? Do I care? I haven’t felt this warm and fuzzy in the better part of a century. It’s sweet and simple and all the things that make life worth living. My fingers are sticky with marshmallow and my mouth has that after-sweet taste.
A pretty good life.
I bite back tears while I take stock of my surroundings: my family, my friends, a guy who adores me. I rest my head on that guy’s shoulder and he kisses the top of my head.
“You’re really nice to me,” I say.
“I like you.”
I turn my face up to look at him, expecting his pester face. But he just looks content. Happy. “But I have a bad attitude.”
Jake chuckles. “I know. I like it.”
A new chord strums on my cousin’s guitar and I bolt up, knowing the song on the first note. “Come on.” I scramble to my feet, offering a hand down to Jake. “You can’t miss this.”
A “Country Roads” sing along is a staple at many West Virginia gatherings. My family operates like a bunch of lemmings headed for the cliff as we instinctively make a circle around the fire, joining arms and singing along like the Whos down in Whoville.
“This is for real?” Jake asks. “I thought this was just a rumor.”
“Nope. It’s real.”
“Every event?”
“Every one we can,” I say, then join my family as we hit the first chorus.
I don’t know that there are moments sweeter than this one in life: surrounded by the ones you love. The ones you chose and the ones who came as part of the package. The complicated relationships and the ones you keep simple. Just as I feel the hot pinch of tears, I look up to find Jake sniffling while he sings along. I’ve got Bri on one side of me and him on my other, feeling the vibration of their voices in my arms where we hold each other.
It’s wholesome, and pure, and a moment of unity that I don’t think enough people get to experience anymore.
I know these moments don’t happen every day in West Virginia. These are special occasions. And yet, a surge of adrenaline contradicts the feeling of calm that comes from the realization.
This is where I belong.
I don’t want to leave.
It’s scary. I built an entire life, and it’s just gone. I miss my friends in Raleigh. I miss the routine I had there.
But this feels so much more right.
This life has always been waiting for me.
I focus on singing because if I let myself feel all these feelings, I’ll cry until I puke.
We come to the end of the song, and I somehow survive without completely ugly crying.
I turn to Bri first and she pouts as she pulls me into a hug.
“I want to stay,” I say into her shoulder.
She holds me tight, her fingertips digging into my shoulder blades. “I know you do.”
“I didn’t know,” I sob.
“It’s okay to stay,” she says, and it’s like a huge weight has been lifted.
“But what if,” I start, but the what ifs that have plagued me for the last month seem unimportant.
Bri holds me back by my upper arms. “You have time to decide. But go with your heart.”
“Will you ever come back?” I feel vulnerable asking. I want her to come back, for us to tackle the next phase of our lives together.
She shakes her head and shrugs. “I’ve got so much in Pittsburgh,” she says. “But maybe.”
I nod, swiping under my eyes. “I get it. I’m glad you’re here now. So glad you came.”
“I’ll always come,” Bri says, and our serious moment is interrupted by Becca piping in beside her with a sneaky grin.
“Yeah you will.”
* * *
The goodbye hugs start after the final notes of Country Roads. While Bri and I chat, Jake folds up chairs and puts them against the house.
He’s adorable, exchanging pleasantries and, “Nice to meet you” with some of my family members. I love hearing them say, “See you again soon,” and he just beams, those devastating dimples catching in the swaths of light from the windows.
I tap his shoulder where he’s bent to put a table away. “Hey. You don’t have to do all this. I’ll get it in the morning.”
He shrugs. “I’m fine. Almost done anyway.” He straightens and studies me. “You have a good day?”
I nod, and the tears start to surface again. “I had the best day.”
A tear falls, and Jake doesn’t panic. His thumb lifts to swipe it away. “I’m glad.”
“Thanks for coming. Even though things between us are, well . . .” I hesitate. “I’m glad you came.”
Jake leans down to hug me. “Me too. I like seeing you happy.”
I pause. “No, but . . . you’re not just here because you feel like you have to be, right?”
We’re still hugging, but he cranes his neck so he can meet my eyes at this angle. “I’m here because I want to see you. With your people. But most of all, you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a hard time staying away from you.”
I swallow hard, stepping back and sliding our hands together. “Yeah but why is that?”
Jake glances at his feet between us, squeezing my hands. “I like watching you become who you’re meant to be. I like watching you be as powerful as you are, and as soft too. I know you think you’re flunking out of this summer, but you’re stronger every day. It’s beautiful.”
My lips pop open and I feel, for the millionth time in twelve hours, like I might cry. I truly don’t know what to say to that.
A hand touches my shoulder. “Just saying goodnight, sissy. Will we see you at the grill out tomorrow?” Aunt Sally cuts in with a hug.
“Oh, yep. I’ll be there!” I say.
She whispers while we’re close. “Bring a friend if you want to.” She squeezes me and winks before turning to Jake, fussing over what a nice boy he is.
I glance back at the rest of my family, my parents included. I’ve mostly avoided them, which might not be fair. I’m sure I’ll end up talking to them after people leave because they’re staying in the third bedroom of the farmhouse tonight. But I know what they’ll say, and I don’t feel like putting myself through it. They always think they know what’s best for me, and part of me resents that for once, we agree.
I should be here.
Jake’s hand taps my lower back. “You need any more help?”
I press into his touch and he snakes his hand around to my hip. “No, we’re good. You can go to bed. It’s getting late. But Maggie and Bill are getting the horses in the morning, so we can sleep in.”
Jake gives my hip a playful tug. “Oh yeah? We can?”
I chuckle. “Making assumptions, are we? I’ve got a full house tonight, Mr. Warren.”
He pulls us tighter together, leaning down to my ear. “I can climb in your window.”
I shake my head. “Bri’s in my bed.”
“Okay, then sneak out and come to mine,” he counters. “Caleb’s gone this weekend.”
“Wish I could, but Bri and I have a hot date to write some fanfic. She’s going home tomorrow.”
Jake’s jaw drops, his voice scandalized. “What fandom, Rossetti?”
“I will never tell you that.”
“No, no, what’s your AO3 handle?” he pushes.
I jump back. “How do you know what AO3 is?”
“Sometimes the library doesn’t have the books I want, so I have to entertain myself other ways. Now cough up that handle so I can go read your backlist.”
“That is between me, Bri, and God.”
He squints at me, grinning. “Alright. I won’t intrude. But I will find a way to get that handle. See you tomorrow?”
“Sounds good.” I’m shameless at this point, my chin tipped up and bearing all my weight into him.
Jake smirks, those hazel eyes shining and dimples popping. “Looks like you’re looking for some inspiration for your smutty little fanfic.”
“Excuse me, it’s not?—”
Jake pulls us so we fully face each other and puts his thumb on my chin. His lips brush mine as he speaks, his stubble grazing the skin below it. “Of course it is, Darcy. Don’t act like I haven’t seen you in action.”
My stomach is tangled in giddy little knots. “Such a pest.”
I barely get the phrase out before he plants a soft, chaste kiss on my lips.
Making out is great. Making out is amazing. But let’s give it up for tender little kisses that make your stomach somehow ascend out of your body, your heart race, and your cheeks flush. Let’s give it up for drawing apart so slowly you feel like you’re floating, for the moment when you open your eyes and they’re there, smiling back at you.
And you’re left wondering how long life will be this sweet.