24. Autumn #2
We settled into our seats beneath an ivy-covered pergola on the patio.
Raphael’s Trattoria was where I’d chosen to go for the next part of the date.
Raphael greeted us with a friendly wave, tucking his prematurely graying hair behind his ear before leading us out to their patio seating.
The smell of fresh greenery and Italian food mingled pleasantly as we sat at the picnic-style table with the magnificent view of the mountain.
We placed our drink orders, and our server left us alone to get settled in.
Bench seats were covered in crocheted pads for each of the tables.
Our table was embellished with a brilliant maroon and yellow mandala-like pattern stitch, and carnival glass votives took the restaurant ambiance from nice to cozy.
You’d never know that just last winter these tables were built with love and the proper amount of frustration by Jack, Simon, Lola, and me.
Long hours and energy had gone into sanding and staining them the right shade to match the bar inside.
We’d been happy to take on another way of expressing our love and loyalty to this one-of-a-kind town.
We’d always be there for our town, just like they were always there for us.
Two years ago there had been a rough storm where we needed a sandbag barrier, and Raphael had used his truck to load, deliver, and unload them, saving our camp from potential water damage from a creek that ran near the mess hall.
We ordered the famous fried ravioli appetizer that I’d dished about as our drinks came out. His Aperol spritz was good of course. My Bellini was better.
Our server came back a moment later with our appetizer and took our orders. Then it was just the two of us.
“What do you think—” I started just as he began, “How do you feel—”
We both laughed, and I reworked my original thought. I couldn’t say that.
“What do you think about the ravioli?” I chickened out, yes, but in my defense, he was leaving tomorrow, and that was going to have to be okay.
“You know me so well. Am I that predictable?”
“When it comes to food, yes. When it comes to life decisions…”
“What are you saying?” He folded his arms, and his lips quirked in a sideways grin.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just… Kind of thought you’d be taken by now.” I hoped I wasn’t overstepping. But I couldn’t say the thought hadn’t been eating at me. “I’ve always thought of you as a relationship guy, that’s all.”
Jamie’s shoulders dipped, but his smile didn’t disappear. He’d always appreciated my directness. “What makes you say that?”
Had I just dug myself into a hole? Yes. And the darkness was closing in around me.
“I mean, every girl you’d dated you’d ended up in a relationship with. Case in point.” I touched my collarbone. “Not to mention you were so good with me. Not that there wasn’t room for improvement.”
He chuckled. “I’m never going to live down our first anniversary, am I?”
Back then, I’d let the fact that he missed our anniversary go, but I liked giving him a hard time about it now.
“I never told you, but I’d had every intention of being home in time for our date.
The only reason we didn’t make it back by then was because Gabe disappeared after he’d found some local, and hooked up.
We looked for him for hours, but we had bad cell reception.
That’s why I wasn’t talking to him the week after. ”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” I was flabbergasted.
“Because it didn’t matter. I’d still fucked up.
I never should have gone in the first place.
” Jamie paused for a long moment, as if pondering what to say.
“I am a little more responsible than I was when I was in high school. I guess the reason I haven’t settled down is that I just haven’t met the right person since you.
But what about you? What are you looking for in the future Mr. or Mrs. Autumn? ”
He may have glossed over that declaration, but I still caught it. I decided to let it go, and redirect the conversation. It hit a little too close to the line we’d been toeing.
“Well, they’ve got to be funny.”
“Of course.”
I tapped my finger to my chin. “I need someone I can go toe-to-toe with. Who isn’t judgmental, and supports me in my decisions. And they need to get along with my friends because they’re also my family.” Wait, was I describing him? “And, good hand-eye coordination is a must. Especially with axes.”
Jamie burst into laughter, garnering the attention of the tables surrounding us, as well as our server who’d just arrived with our food.
A beautiful plate brimming with rich pesto-covered linguini was presented in front of me, and delicious looking chicken marsala was set down in front of him.
Still coming down from our slide-induced high, I let the hot, comforting food and the reality of this moment with this man in front of me sink in.
We could be happy here. Us, together, weeknight dates in between camp sessions and his day job, like it was our normal.
A small dab of marsala sauce glistened in the space between his lower lip and chin, and I licked my lips as I stared at it.
His lips curved up at me when he caught the movement, and his delicious smile made me grateful we were sitting down.
Jamie leaned closer. He was stunning as I caught the faintest smell of his amber and spice soap and him, that perfect combination that had my heart spinning and my instincts to lick that sauce off him kicking into overdrive.
“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asked, drawing my eyes to his.
Guilty as charged, I was staring as he licked his lips. Our eyes locked together for what had to have been the billionth time. I grinned. I shouldn’t divulge these tempting thoughts to him. The man’s ego was big enough as it was.
“There’s a little sauce right there.” I ran my finger along my lip, miming.
Jamie grinned at me. “Maybe you should lick—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
His eyes went wide before he slowly blinked, feigning shock. “You’d let me just walk around like this?”
“Will it get you to take your shirt off again? I know how you are with unruly sauce.”
“It was everywhere , Autumn.” Jamie’s face was full of humor and sweetness. “I had to take matters into my own hands. You saw…”
I leaned over our table and swiped my thumb lightly across the space between his lower lip and chin.
Bringing it back to my mouth, I sucked the sauce off my thumb, staring directly into his eyes.
He stopped mid-sentence, all his attention focused on that singular motion, and I recrossed my legs at the heat in his eyes.
We were too far away from the privacy of my cabin.
And my bed. Jamie Davis in my bed. Heat pooled low and hot, but I tried to ignore it, to push it aside like I’d done before.
My throat suddenly felt dry as a desert. Grasping for redirection, I took another sip of my Bellini. “Cooking with you in that class reminded me of your mom. Does she still make her famous zucchini orzo dish?”
His smile broke out again, then a look of something more tense passed over his face before he took a bite of fried ravioli. “Yeah, I think so. I haven’t been back home in a while.”
His gaze was far away, and I wondered not for the first time just how different our lives might have gone. I squeezed his hand across the table.
Jamie weaved his fingers with mine. “She would love this place. I should bring her for her birthday next year.”
I couldn’t contain my smile, stretching wide and unashamed for it. He was going to bring his mom here to tell her all about his time at Camp Starlight. Would he tell her about me? About this?
Hand in hand in the comfort of the candlelight, Jamie chewed his food quietly and didn’t pull away.
Eating and drinking one-handed came naturally to me, but Jamie struggled to use his fork because I held his dominant hand.
This man was making me smile more than I had in a long time.
He brought out my snark and my sweetness.
He killed me with his humor, and our shared past was still not as dangerous as the undeniable thing he was doing with my heart.
After a while, I excused myself for the restroom before I could say something really stupid.
My thoughts were a chorus of “Tell him,” and “No, it wouldn’t be fair.
” Maybes and what-ifs ran wild through my mind as I struggled to articulate what he was starting to mean to me…
Again. Splashing water on my face in the restroom, I’d completely forgotten about the light makeup I’d applied and took a little bit of time with a wet paper towel to fix it. Moments later, I approached our table.
“Yeah, no, great… Thanks, Margaret, for the call.” He paused as I sat back down across from him. “Uh-huh, you do the same.” He looked flabbergasted as he seemed to gather himself before another smile made a home across his face. “That was my boss. I got the promotion.”
My smile matched his. “You got it?” I screeched. “Jamie, that’s wonderful.”
He took another bite of his dinner, delighted in my excitement over his news. “It’s everything I’ve been working toward, all the long hours, all the missed… Just, everything.”
I stood up fast, with all the enthusiasm I had bursting at my seams. “One sec.” I waved our server over with excitement. “Can we please get two glasses of champagne and your famous cherries jubilee?”
“Jubilee?”
“This calls for a celebration. You’re incredible.”
Full of champagne and noodles, I led Jamie along the busy street toward the viewpoint. It was still warm and bright outside as we walked in a comfortable quiet. Taking in the laughter around us, the out-of-towners and locals darting in from shop to shop.
His eyes lit up as we walked past Beans and Beans, as they damn well should. Every town should have a treasure like this even if we weren’t indulging tonight.
“Here we go.” I motioned for Jamie to sit down on a bench in front of the forest.
He slid his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in tighter to his side as I opened the lid of the to-go container of jubilee, then scooted closer to him.
Velvet sweetness sat rich on my tongue and tried its best to comfort me.
Watching his face light up as our server lit the rum and kirsch into the sweet syrup, then poured it over the ice cream was permanently part of my favorite memories.
He took the offered bite of dessert, holding my eyes as he licked his lips.
Neither of us spoke, letting the moment rest peacefully between us for a breath, then two, and then his liqueur-sauced lips were on me.
His tongue was a mixture of hot and cool as it slid across mine.
My heart raced. My hands found his neck, and the to-go container was carelessly moved behind me.
We pulled toward each other, and the kiss was everything we could and couldn’t say.
“What was that for?” I asked a grinning Jamie.
“You had sauce on your lips.”
I smiled into the thin slice of space between us.
I pulled away gently and leaned my head onto his shoulder.
All earlier thoughts of what-ifs were gone in the harsh reality of one phone call, and now I needed to do my best to be happy for him.
He fit here, sure. I wanted him here, but none of that meant this was home for him.
Maybe, in a parallel universe, he’d stay.
After seeing what Jack went through all year trying to make things work with Gia, a long-distance relationship was out of the question.
And yet why was it suddenly all I could think about?
The clock wouldn’t stop, no matter how good things were between us, and Jamie didn’t fill the silence.
Instead, we stayed like that, my head on his shoulder, our hands still clasped in the end-of-summer breeze.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I’m really glad you came.”
He wrapped me into his side. “I’m glad too.”
I didn’t know what he was thinking, but he seemed to have a lot on his mind despite this positive development. Instead of saying something, he reached beside me to reclaim the opened to-go box. He offered me the last bite of the cherries jubilee, and I took it.
I’d take what I could get from him. I always had. Syrupy richness collided with the bittersweet reality that this, right here on this bench, was as good as we were going to get, and that had to be okay.