Chapter 17 Jimmy
Jimmy
The sun is shining bright today, and Rex can’t get enough.
I watch him run his course in the backyard, occasionally dropping to roll around in the grass, then getting up and sprinting along his made-up track again. I wish we had less house and more yard for him, but he seems to make do.
I take a seat in the patio chair to enjoy what might be the actual weather break into summer. You never know in Michigan. Spring is the season that can’t be trusted, but this feels like it might finally be it.
It’s the beginning of June, and the sun is fully awake. The air feels lighter, and it smells like all the fresh greenery that has returned.
Something about this specific season change just makes everything feel better. Everyone’s mood is lifted as the weight of winter is finally behind us. It’s a busier season for me at work, but having fresh air and sunlight well into the evening still seems to rival anything from the cold months.
Except for the dirty paw prints, Rex just stamped all over the patio.
“Come here, boy,” I say as I grab a towel out of the box that Becca put here for this purpose. “Let me clean you up before we give your mom a heart attack.”
I don’t mind that Becca loves a clean house. I don’t mind living in a clean house, and I definitely don’t mind that she prefers to do it herself, usually not asking for my help. But I do mind how irritated she can get by the simplest things, like paw prints, from a dog she wanted.
She wasn’t always like this, and I’ve never pinpointed when she changed. She has always been stubborn and determined, but not as irritable. The fact that no one can change her mind once it’s set is actually one of my favorite things about her.
When we first started dating, we actually had fun.
We went out and did things and talked about other adventures we wanted to take, but after graduating from college the second time, those adventures became just thoughts of the past. But there was a time, not that long ago, that her eyes used to light up about something other than shiny things.
The spring before we finished our bachelor’s degrees, we went to the U.P.
to see the Tahquamenon Falls over Memorial Day weekend.
Neither of us was a hiker, but we’d seen a ton of gorgeous pictures, so we figured the scenery might be worth trying something new.
She was actually excited about it. She went out and bought us both hiking boots, even though we were relatively confident we’d never wear them again.
She got us backpacks, water bottles, and anything else that Google told her we might need.
The drive was long, about five and a half hours, but we enjoyed that too. We took turns playing music, and I made fun of her song choices while she made fun of mine. We rarely agreed on things like that, but back then, it didn’t seem to matter.
By the time we got there, we were both so tired from the drive, we stayed in our cabin for the rest of the evening. But the next day, we got up bright and early, got dressed in all our new gear, and headed out to find the falls.
Throughout the walk, she didn’t complain. We talked for parts of it, and in other parts we just walked in a comfortable silence, taking in what was around us. In spots that got a little treacherous, I held her hands in support.
When we finally made it to the falls, it was as breathtaking as everyone said it would be. We were more than ready to take a break, so we found a spot to sit and enjoy the view. As Becca leaned down to take her seat, she slipped and fell, both hands landing flat in the moist dirt.
But twenty-one-year-old Becca didn’t get mad. She laughed.
“All that hiking and I fall now.” She said as she smeared the dirt on her jeans and sat next to me.
She leaned her head on my shoulder, and we just sat there watching and listening to the water crash.
That was the last trip we ever took.
I slide the back door open, and Rex immediately runs inside for his water bowl, thankfully leaving no paw prints behind.
On the wall in the hallway is a picture of us from that trip. The two of us were standing in front of the falls, taken by a stranger who showed up just as we were leaving. I wonder if she misses doing stuff like this, like I do. I doubt it, though, because if she wanted to travel, we would.
I grab my keys and head for my car. As I back out of the driveway, more memories from years ago keep playing through my head, but these aren’t about Becca.
I have so many more of those kinds of memories with Autumn.
Too many to hardly ever focus on one. Usually, when one pops up, it reminds me of another, then another.
I don’t feel the same sadness with my memories of Autumn.
Not long ago I did, but not anymore. Not now, when she’s here again, making new ones.
I think about some of these for my whole twenty-minute drive, including our most recent.
I didn’t expect it to happen. I’m sure no one would believe me, but I didn’t go with her that night, planning for that to happen or even hoping.
I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind the minute I saw her again, but did I think I’d actually do it?
No. Did I think she’d actually do it? Definitely not.
But there’s something there. Something that wasn’t before. The need to be with her wasn’t like this before. Maybe that’s because I could see her whenever I wanted then. Maybe it was because I was still happy when I wasn’t around her back then.
I guess I shouldn’t say that. I do feel happy most of the time. I definitely wouldn’t say I’m miserable, but something is missing. And what makes now different is that I think I figured out what it was.
I park the car and send her a text.
I'm here. parked by the ER.
Ok. Be there in one sec.
My heart’s thud is the only sound in this car, so I turn up the radio. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I didn’t realize it was down until now. This will be the third time I’ve seen her since she’s been home, but the first time I’ve seen her since I spent the weekend in her bed.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous, or maybe I’m excited. I’ve been waiting for this since yesterday, so maybe both. I suppose I’m probably nervous because, well, I shouldn’t be here.
She comes around the corner, and I can see her smile from here. She feels the same way about this as I do. God, I just want to kiss her.
But will she want me to? I don’t know what today is for. Yeah, we had sex, a lot, but did that change anything for her? It did for me.
I push the unlock button as she reaches the door. She drops into the passenger seat and smiles at me.
“Hi.” She says sweetly.
“Hi,” I say back and mirror her smile.
We stare at each other for a few seconds. Clearly, neither of us knows what we’re here for. My eyes leave hers and trail lower, not that I can see her chest through this scrub top, but I can see her deep breaths. It appears that my gaze does something to her because her breaths quicken.
I look back up at her face, and her lips are parted, like she is about to say something.
Or maybe she’s just trying to breathe. It makes a smile grow on my face as I’m amused by how affected by my presence she appears to be.
And that affects me. I don’t know how much longer I can just sit here like this.
She looks down, away from my smirk, hiding her own. But then her eyes look up at me, those blue jewels peering at me through her eyelashes, and it’s over. It’s all over for me.
I jump across the center console and grab her face with both of my hands. She does the same, and our lips are together again. Our hands are pulling at each other frantically, not sure where to land.
She’s been thinking about this too, and I can tell by the way she lets my hands go where they want, and the moans that are muffled by my mouth.
I don’t know if the last time we saw each other was just a fluke, or even exactly what I am doing here today.
But now there’s one thing I know for sure, and that is without a doubt, everything has changed.