Chapter 5
It took three days and a lot of begging, but Mother finally relented.
“All right, Sara Anne,” she said one evening as she brushed a loose curl from my face. “If you promise not to let this dock business interfere with your chores, then you can help Jack and George.”
I squealed in delight, throwing my arms around her in a grateful hug. “Oh, thank you! You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“I only hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I do, Mother. I’m up for it, really. I’m a hard worker, and I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”
She pulled back and looked at me. “That’s not what I meant, sweet girl.”
I looked into her worried eyes, not fully understanding the depth of her concern. I knew she had reservations about me spending so much time with Jack, but I was too excited to worry about that. “Mama, Jack’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”
“I know you believe that, but hearts can be fragile. Especially at your age. Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”
My mother had been through her fair share of heartbreaks, and she knew what they could do to a person, changing them from hopeful and bright, to guarded and wary. Still, I didn’t see any reason to worry. Life was exciting, and I wanted to live every minute of it.
The following week, I started work on the dock.
Jack and George taught me the ropes, everything from fixing loose boards to cleaning boats.
The work was grueling, the summer sun turning my skin the color of molasses, but I loved every minute of it.
And the best part was the company. Jack and George were an odd pair to say the least. George, with his gruff exterior but heart as big as the lake, and Jack with his quick wit and infectious laughter.
They made me feel like I belonged in a world where girls my age didn’t typically venture.
Most times, I’d sit and listen as they went back and forth with their banter. But sometimes I’d join in, earning my fair share of laughter. The dock became my second home, a place where I could be myself.
But every now and then, when I’d catch myself staring at Jack, my mother’s words would echo in the back of my mind.
Jack was so effortlessly charming that people were drawn to him, and I was no exception.
There were moments when his eyes would meet mine, lingering for just a breath longer than they should have.
Moments when his hands brushed against mine as we worked side by side, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
His smile was genuine and contagious, stirring emotions inside me that I had never felt before.
Time seemed to move differently whenever Jack was around.
Days felt too short, nights too long. His laughter echoed in my dreams, his lake-soaked scent lingering on my clothes long after our work was done.
I found myself daydreaming about him during quiet moments, his face as vivid in my mind as the sun setting over the lake.
Despite my mother’s warning, my feelings for Jack were growing stronger, like a wildflower blooming in an open field.
They were wild and uncontrollable, deepening in color with each passing day.
I knew I was on the brink of something indescribable, something that could be beautiful or devastating, or maybe even both at the same time.
Some nights, I’d sit at the edge of the dock, my bare feet dangling over the side into the cool water as the horizon swallowed the sun.
Those were the moments when I would let my thoughts wander, tracing Jack's features in my mind, reliving our conversations.
Jack would often join me, sitting quietly at my side.
His closeness was comforting, his presence alone able to quiet my mind.
When we did speak, our conversations flowed naturally as they always did, effortless and familiar.
We'd chat about the day's work, the latest town gossip, and our hopes and dreams. There was never talk of love, no passionate declarations or star-crossed promises.
Our connection was not rooted in grand gestures but was instead built on quiet companionship and a mutual understanding that ran deeper than words could reach.
This unspoken bond between us was far more compelling than any romantic novel.
It was in the way he looked at me, and in the way he touched my shoulder when he passed me, a simple gesture that sent delicate shivers down my spine.
I was acutely aware of his presence, drawn to him like a ship to a lighthouse in the darkness. He was a silent beacon in the night, a magnet that tugged at the strings of my heart with an irresistible force.
We had become a part of each other’s lives, a constant anchor in the ebb and flow of everyday existence.
I could no more imagine a day without him than I could envision a night without stars.
The tranquility of our shared moments felt hauntingly fragile, like the thin frost on an early winter morning, beautiful yet so easily shattered with a simple touch.
The fear of losing what we had clung to my heart in the lonely hours of the night.
I would lie awake, staring at the vast expanse of the starlit sky, hoping and praying that our moment would last forever.
Present
“Did Jack ever reciprocate your feelings?”
Diane’s voice brought me back to the present, her question piercing through my reminiscence. I was momentarily lost, unsure of how to verbalize the complex web of emotions that had intertwined Jack and me.
“Not in words, but…in actions, in looks. In the way he’d listen to me, truly listen, when nobody else would.”
“Did you consider Jack your boyfriend?”
“No,” I replied with a shake of my head. “Not in those early days. We were never so conventional. We were … companions. Friends. Allies in a world that often felt too large and too small all at once.”
Diane studied me in that probing way of hers, her eyebrows knitted together in a thoughtful arch. She took a slow sip of her coffee, her gaze unyielding.
“Do you regret not telling him how you felt?”
Regret. That word had cast long shadows over my heart. I had reasons for the choices I made, for the words I left unsaid. Yet, they seemed infinitesimally small in the face of what might have been.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Sometimes, I think if I had told him outright, if I’d been honest with him, we could have had more. Or we could have lost everything.”
Sims Chapel, TN
July 1949
I drew a hand across my forehead, wiping the sweat from my brow. “School starts in just a few weeks. Are you looking forward to it?”
“You know I’ve never been one for school,” said Jack as he checked his line.
“Well, I’m looking forward to it. I’ve been thinking about what I want to focus on while I’m in college, and I think I’ve decided on math.”
Jack adjusted his ball cap. “Math? But I thought you wanted to be a lawyer?”
“I did, once,” I replied, digging my toes into the cool dirt. “But I realized that numbers...mathematics, it feels like home. Plus, I don’t have to stand up in front of people and talk, which is a bonus. You know how nervous I get.”
“Yeah, I remember the school spelling bee in eighth grade. You were shaking like a leaf.”
I groaned at the memory. “Don’t remind me.”
“So math, huh?” he mused. “Yeah, that’s suits you well. You’re certainly smart enough, and you’ve always had a knack for numbers. Maybe you can put it to good use someday—be a teacher or something.”
“Maybe. So, what are you going to do when school is over? Do you ever think about going to college?”
Jack laughed. “I can barely stomach high school. No sir, once I graduate next spring, I’m going to work. I’ve got my sights set on a place like Clara’s one day. Which means I’ll need to start making some money right away.”
“Does that mean you won’t be around next summer?” The thought of him leaving filled me with a sudden dread.
He didn’t reply immediately, keeping his gaze on the dancing reflections of sunlight scattered by the water. “Naw, I reckon I’ll still be here, at least for one more summer. I already promised George I’d be around to help him. And a man should always keep his promises.”
“Right,” I said, the knot in my chest loosening. I took in my surroundings—the murky water, the emerald green mountains, the sound of the wind rustling through the tall cottonwood trees. “You know, I’m really going to miss this.”
“What?”
“This.” I gestured to the water, the trees. “Fishing, working on the dock with you and George … spending time with you. Far and away, this has been the best summer of my life.”
A smile worked its way onto Jack’s face. “Yeah, it has been pretty great, hasn’t it?”
“Since you’re planning on helping George next summer, do you think I could help too?”
Jack shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t see why not. George ain’t going nowhere, and neither is the work.”
“Good. I’m already looking forward to it.”
He looked at me then, his eyes filled with warmth. “You know, it won’t be the same without you here. For as long as I can remember, it’s always been me and you against the world. Now, you’re going off to college. Don’t know how I’ll manage without you.”
I blinked in surprise, not expecting his words.
“Ever since Lewis died, you're the closest friend I’ve got,” he added, his fingers fidgeting with the lures in his tackle box.
Overwhelmed by his confession, I grasped for words. “Jack… I—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “You ain’t got to say anything.”
But I couldn’t let his sentiment go unacknowledged.
After all, I had been waiting a long time to hear him say something like that.
“No, Jack, I want to. I know how much your brother meant to you. So to hear you say that I’m your closest friend, well.
..that means a lot. And just so you know, you’re my closest friend too, and. ..”
The moment was broken when a fish tugged at Jack’s line. He reached out and steadied the rod, his eyes once again filled with that familiar spark. I had seen that expression countless times over the summer, one that I was convinced I would never forget.
“Will you look at that? A nice red-eye,” he said, grinning with pride as he got the fish to the bank. He unhooked it carefully, holding it up against the midday sun. “This one will make a fine supper.”
I watched Jack working on another catch and found myself smiling. I was grateful for these moments by his side—the feel of the earth beneath us, the sound of the rushing water, and Jack's laughter filling up each gap in between.
When the sun began to set and we prepared to leave, I turned toward him. “Jack…”
“Hmm?”
My heart fluttered. I had been thinking about this moment for weeks, ever since Mama’s comments about Jack and I spending too much time together. I took a deep breath and said, “You know how Mother worries about us being together?”
Jack nodded slowly, looking serious. “Yeah, I know.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” I trailed off again before finally gathering the courage. “Do you ever think about…us?”
“Us? What do you mean?”
“You know, beyond fishing and working together?” My voice was barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for his response.
Jack stopped packing up his gear and turned toward me. He broke into one of his warm smiles and simply said, “Every day, Sara Coffee. Every single day.”
That night, as I lay in bed staring out the window at the world bathed in silver, a new sense of hope and anticipation bloomed within me. Staring at the moon, I whispered to myself, “Every day,” and fell asleep with a smile on my face.