Easy (33 page)
Even stranger, Ray
was sitting outside with Charles and Cindy. He’d taken a break from the fishing
boat for his son’s graduation—his first since he’d left Alexandria.
***
“I accepted a job on Friday.”
This was it. After
applying for dozens of jobs during his final semester, Lucas had several
interviews, and a few second interviews. A week ago, I’d overheard Charles
telling Cindy that he’d gotten a solid offer from an engineering firm in town. I’d
been waiting for him to tell me.
When I left for Oberlin in August, we would be twelve hundred miles apart.
“Oh?” I avoided looking at him, afraid I would burst into tears.
Stuffing the
leftovers Cindy sent with us into his fridge, I made no further comment, and he
leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me. Finally, everything was stored
away, and I couldn’t delay the inevitable any further.
At the look on my face, he caught my hand. “C’mere.”
As he led me to
the sofa, I blinked back tears and gave myself a stern lecture that mostly
consisted of
stop crying stop crying stop crying
.
Leaning into the
corner, he pulled me into his arms. I halfway listened as he relayed the
technical aspects of the job, the size of the company, the impressive pay, and
the start date—the second week in July. Mostly I was wondering how often I would
have the time to fly home. Free weekends were almost unheard of as a music
student. Mandatory recitals and performances to perform or attend were unremitting.
“So my only
question is this—do I want to live in Oberlin and commute to Cleveland, or live
near Cleveland and commute to you?” His head propped on one bent arm, he gazed
at me, waiting.
I blinked. “What?”
He smiled
innocently. “Oh—didn’t I tell you that part? The company’s located in
Cleveland.”
“Cleveland, Ohio?
You accepted a job in Cleveland, Ohio?” Cleveland was just over half an hour
away from the college.
“I did.”
My eyes filled with
tears. “But, why?”
Arching a brow, he
brought his free arm down and hooked my hair behind my ear. “You heard the pay,
right? And also, to be near you.” Thumbing a tear from my cheek, he added, “Mostly,
to be near you.”
I considered
everything I’d learned from following Kennedy, everything Lucas had sworn he’d
never ask of me. “But all that stuff you said about me not giving up what I
want to be or what I want to do to be with you—doesn’t that apply to you, too?”
He cupped my face
in his palm and stared into my eyes, sighing. “First, this is a great job, and
I’m excited about it.” When he tugged me closer and kissed me, I leaned across
his chest, one hand slipping under his t-shirt. I forgot that he hadn’t
finished his explanation until he whispered into my mouth, “Second, I’m
ambitious, but I can succeed almost anywhere.” Standing, he continued kissing
me as he carried me into his room. When he let me slide from his arms to the
floor, I yanked my tank top off, scooting into the center of the bed and watching
him pull his t-shirt over his head. I could put him on replay doing that and
watch it all day… if I didn’t know what was coming next.
Crawling up from
the foot of the bed, he lay over me slowly, dragging both of my arms above my
head, gently, as he had the very first time he sketched me. With one hand, he crossed
and secured my wrists. He’d taught me every possible way to escape this hold,
but there was no way I wanted to get away. He was in a slow-motion mood—one of
my favorites, though it meant I’d be driven crazy before we were done. I chewed
the edge of my lip in anticipation.
He stared down at
me, and I examined his beautiful eyes up close, something I’d never tire of
doing. “What I can’t do anywhere is be with you.” Leaning closer, he ran his
tongue over my lips and his fingertips over my skin until I arched up and
captured his mouth with mine.
He released my
wrists, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling our hearts beat in sync
as lips followed a meandering path from my ear down. “Choosing to be with you
isn’t a difficult decision, Jacqueline,” he breathed, pulling back one final
time to stare into my eyes. “It’s easy. Incredibly easy.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The world an author creates and the characters that inhabit it may come from her imagination alone, but few authors can wrestle the story that emerges into shape without help. My critique partners: Abbi Glines and Elizabeth Reyes, and my beta readers: Liz Reinhardt, Colleen Hoover, Robin Deeslie and Ami Keller, have been invaluable in that regard, especially with this book. Thank you for your unique insights, your nitpicking where needed, and your cheering in the face of my worries.
I couldn’t have written
Easy
without the help of my husband, Paul. The creation of good fiction begins with raw, honest emotions—whether the author is penning a story about a mouse who wants dessert, or a sprawling epic of Tsarist Russia. The subjects touched on in
Easy
come with an even deeper obligation to remain true to those emotions. Paul encouraged me constantly to fearlessly portray my love of hidden connections, and my belief that our close relationships with family, friends and lovers—any and all of these, if we’re lucky—are capable of healing the trauma all of us experience in our lives.
Thank you to Hillary Tayler Green for your insight into sororities, fraternities, and Greek life on the campus of a state university. I’m so proud to have watched you from the sidelines these past several years. Thank you to Hope Seggalink for the in-depth information on surviving college as a music education major, and the hours of dedication involved. (Note: Any mistakes on either of these subjects are wholly mine.)
Thanks to my friends and family for their love and support, even when I seem to drop off the face of the earth for extended periods of time. Believe me, I notice you—hovering at the edges of my time, waiting for my free moments so you can persuade me to interact like a normal human being. I’m eternally grateful for your understanding of what makes me who I am.
Thank you Stephanie Mooney for beautifying the cover I dreamed up. It’s
perfect
. Thank you Stephanie Lott for your editing skill… so sorry about that eye tick you developed on that one thing.
To the girls of FP: I could have never imagined such a thing. You are all miracles, individually and together, and I’m in awe of each and every one of you. Thank you for your strength, love, acceptance, and empathetic ears. Write on.
To those who relate to any part of this story—if you haven’t told, tell. Even if it’s been months, years, decades. Tell
someone
. We remain silent because we’ve taken on a responsibility and/or a shame that was never ours to carry. Forgive yourself for things that were not your fault. Bad decisions, mistaken trust, physical weakness, or too much fear to act
do not
make an assault on you or someone you care about your fault.
Ever
.
If at all possible, please find a professional to help you sort it all out. Every college campus has counselors available for students—usually free of charge, and always confidential. Communities often offer free or low-cost counseling for the victims of assault and those who love them. Hotlines and online support, local and national, are available as well.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Reading was one of my first and earliest loves, and writing soon followed. My first book was about a lost bear, but my lack of ability as an illustrator convinced me to abandon that effort and concentrate on passing 3rd grade. I wrote sad romantic poetry in high school and penned my first half-novel when I was 19, for which I did lots of research on Vikings (the marauders, not the football team), and which was accidentally destroyed when I stuffed it into the shredder at work.
Addictions: coffee and Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt. Also carrots, but not with coffee or frozen yogurt, because that would be disgusting. I also love shopping for earrings, because they always fit - even if I occasionally "forget" to work out. I'm a hopeful romantic who adores novels with happy endings, because there are enough sad endings in real life.
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