Mine: A Love Story (18 page)

James stops. “Hold on a second,” he says.

He stoops and picks up a small flat stone from the dirt, hefting it in his hand and studying it for a moment like it’s some kind of archeological treasure. I have no idea what he’s doing. It looks pretty much like an ordinary rock to me. There’s plenty of them embedded in the mud.

Next thing I know, he bends slightly at the waist and whips the stone out over the water with an underhand sidearm motion. The stone skips four or five times atop the lake’s surface before sinking out of sight.

“Wow,” I say, impressed. “That’s pretty good.”

“Pretty good, yeah,” he says, smiling. “Not quite good enough, though. My father used to tell us if we could get a rock to skip six times, we could make a wish that would come true. I only got five out of that one.”

I bend down and pick up a rock of my own. “Let me try,” I say.

Before I can throw it, James stops me, lightly grabbing my wrist and taking the rock from my hand.

“You’re holding it wrong,” he tells me. He wraps his thumb and index finger around the edge of the stone, like a backwards C. “Hold it like this.”

He hands me the rock and I grip it the way he showed me. Trying to mimic how he threw his rock, I wing it out onto the lake. It hits the water with a splash and sinks without bouncing even once. Oh, well. I never claimed to be an athlete.

“No wishes for me, I guess,” I say sadly.

“It takes practice,” James replies consolingly.

He picks up another stone and whips it out across the water. It skips so many times I lose count. Had to be at least six, though. I look at James and he’s got his eyes closed and his head tilted slightly upward. I think he’s making a wish.

“That was amazing,” I say when he opens his eyes. “How many was it? I couldn’t even count them.”

“Seven,” he says. “My record is nine. But seven is good enough for a wish.”

“What did you wish for?” I ask, definitely curious.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” he says. “It’s like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. If you reveal the wish, you lose it.” He smiles. “And I don’t want to lose this one.”

Dang. I really wanted to know what he wished for.

It will be almost a month before I finally find out.

We resume walking. Up ahead, the thick trunk of a fallen tree stretches almost to the water. The tree has been there a long time, and weather and people have long ago stripped the bark from the trunk, leaving a smooth, hard gray surface. When we reach the log, I can see scores of initials and hearts carved into the top and sides. Some of the carvings are old and weathered, others look fresh and sharp.

“Want to sit for a moment?” James asks.

“Sure,” I reply. “It’s a pretty spot.”

The tree makes a comfortable bench, just the right height for our feet to rest easily on the grass. From here, we’ve got an unblocked view across the lake to the hills beyond. Most of the trees on the hills are gray and bare, except for scattered clumps of dark green holly or mountain laurel bushes. The scene is desolate, but starkly beautiful nonetheless. The bright blue sky softens the barrenness, both above the hills and in the reflection on the water. On a gray, wintry day, I’m sure the desolation would be magnified.

It’s starting to get a bit chilly as the sun creeps lower in the sky. The slanting rays don’t hold the same warmth as the more direct ones did. I zip up my sweatshirt.

“Getting cold?” James asks.

“A little,” I say.

He slides closer to me and puts his arm around my shoulders, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And presto—just like that, the cold vanishes.

Flash forward. James and I have been dating for almost two months now, and it’s been amazing. He’s been so good for me, helping me gently out of my shell without ever pressuring me to do anything. I remember him saying he was going to make me more of a “go-for-it” girl. Well, I’m nowhere near that yet, but I’m definitely a lot less cautious and reserved than I was before we started going out. In a good way, I mean.

We’ve been back to the lake three times, and with the weather beginning to get warmer, I know we’ll start going even more often. We think of the lake as “our place.” James wants to teach me how to row, but I keep telling him I’m perfectly happy to sit and let him do all the work. Besides, I like watching the play of the muscles on his arms and under his shirt when he rows, though I haven’t told him that, of course.

He’s been teaching me how to skip rocks, which is fun. My arm is pretty weak and lame, but I can get at least three skips most of the time, and once I got five. I’m going to keep practicing, because if I can just add one more and do six, I’ll get to make a wish. I remember Marissa saying the wishing star thing seldom works, but I know the rock skipping one does, because after James and I had been dating for a month, he finally told me what he wished for that first day at the lake. He wished for me and him to be together, as a couple. How sweet is that?

I’ve got my own wish all ready to go, but I can’t tell you what it is, or it won’t come true. And I really, really want it to come true. Now if I can just skip that darn rock six times!

Okay, enough about wishes. I’ve made a big decision. A really big decision. I’ve talked it over with Marissa, and she agrees I’m ready. Of course, she would probably have told me I was ready a month ago. But I wasn’t, trust me. I’m not even positive I’m ready now, but we’ll see. I told you I’m a lot less careful nowadays.

“Earth to Heather,” Marissa says from across the room, drawing me out of my reverie.

I’m sitting at my desk, putting makeup on. At least, I was supposed to be putting makeup on, before my mind drifted off. I look at my reflection in the magnifying mirror in front of me. One eye is done—and looks pretty good, if I must say so myself—but the other one stares back at me all dull and forlorn. I’ve got my mascara brush in my hand, but I haven’t touched the lashes on that eye. Hence the dull, forlorn look.

“Daydreaming?” Marissa asks. “Or having second thoughts?”

She’s also been putting on makeup, but she’s obviously done, because she’s now twisted around in her chair, watching me.

“A little of both,” I say. “But I’ll take the daydream any time. It’s way more fun.”

“I bet you would,” Marissa says, grinning. “And I bet I know who you were dreaming about.”

I smile back. “I was thinking about skipping rocks with James.”

“Skipping rocks?” Marissa says. She shakes her head in a “what am I going to do with you” way. “That’s my Heather, fantasizing about throwing rocks into a pond. You want to know what I fantasize about when I’m thinking of Gary?”

“No, please, no,” I say, holding up my hands in a stop gesture. “I can only imagine. And I really don’t want to imagine!”

Marissa laughs. “Okay, your loss,” she says. “You might learn something, though.”

“I’ve got enough on my mind, thank you,” I reply, smiling. “But thanks for the offer.”

I lean closer to the mirror and start carefully applying mascara to my undone eye. I’m usually pretty casual with my makeup, but tonight’s a big night, and I want it to look just right.

Even so, it doesn’t take me long to finish. I’m not one of those girls who uses all kinds of fancy makeup tricks. A little blush, a touch of lip gloss, a bit of eye shadow and some mascara, and that’s about it. Luckily, James likes the more natural look, and he’s the only one who really counts.

I get up and check myself out in the full length mirror. I have to smile. I’m not sure the shy awkward girl who showed up here way back in September would even recognize the young lady staring back from the mirror. Not only is she better with makeup and clothes, but she seems to stand a bit straighter and has a more confident, less fearful look in her eyes. I owe most of that to Marissa, and more recently, to James. I’m so lucky to have both of them in my life.

I’ve chosen my outfit with the same thoughts in mind as with my makeup—easy, comfortable and moderately stylish. I’m wearing a variation of my old “hunting outfit,” because my yoga pants and boots are about the most comfortable things I own, other than sweats and T’s. Besides, I know James likes the way I look in them. I’ve paired the yoga pants with the ivory cable knit sweater I bought that same day at The Buff. My hair is down, but I’ve put a clip in either side to keep it from falling in front of my face. I’m finally starting to see what other people see when they tell me I’m cute. When Marissa or James use words like “gorgeous” I still cringe, but I’ve gotten comfortable with “cute,” “pretty,” and sometimes even “hot.”

“You look great,” Marissa says from behind me. “Perfect for tonight.”

I’d probably say I look “pretty darn good,” but I can handle “great,” too.

“Thanks,” I say. “You look pretty hot yourself.”

Marissa can look very sexy when she wants to. What’s really cool is she can look either trashy sexy or sophisticated sexy, depending on her mood and her plans. Tonight, she’s leaning more toward the sophisticated side. She’s wearing a short black skirt and knee high black leather boots with three inch heels. The combination makes her legs look longer than they really are. She’s got on a low cut gold lamé top, but because she’s wearing it under a black short jacket with gray trim it doesn’t look anywhere near as slutty as when she wears it with leather hot pants and fishnet stockings.

“I guess we’re ready, then,” Marissa says. “Let’s go check on Katie and Beth.”

We’re going on a group date to The Joint tonight. Marissa and Katie will be with Gary and Grant, of course, and Beth will be with Brandon, a guy she’s been dating for about a month now. James is working, but he’ll hang at our table as much as he can.

Marissa and I head down the hall toward Katie and Beth’s room. Before we’re halfway there, their door opens and Beth emerges. Katie appears a moment later. Beth smiles when she turns and sees us walking toward her.

“Perfect timing,” she says. “You guys look great.”

“Back at ya,” Marissa says.

Beth is wearing a tight cotton dress with two inch wide powder blue and black stripes swirling diagonally around her body. Across her breasts, the stripes go in the opposite direction. The overall effect is to really show off her curves. She hasn’t been dating Brandon all that long, so she’s definitely still in the “dress to impress” stage. Her shoulders are bare, so she’s got a black sweater draped over her arm for when it gets cool later in the evening. Katie has a long turquoise shirt over dark blue yoga pants. Instead of boots, she’s wearing a cool pair of turquoise shoes.

Beth strikes a seductive pose and flips her hand through her hair. “The guys in The Joint are going to be bummed that we’re all taken,” she says. “Sucks for them. Good for us.”

To keep things simple, we decided we would all walk together to The Joint and meet our guys there, rather than having them pick us up individually here at the dorm. I think Marissa suggested it so I wouldn’t have to go alone. Afterwards, everyone can split up and go wherever they want. James is getting off early, so I won’t be left stranded when everyone goes their separate ways.

It’s almost the end of March, and the evening is quite pleasant. Daylight Savings started two weeks ago, so it’s still light out when we leave the dorm, though the sun is almost gone. There’s not a cloud in the sky, so the sunset provides no glorious colors tonight. Instead, the sky is slowing fading from a bright blue to a pale, washed out powder blue as the sun disappears. A bit of a breeze has risen from the west, and I wonder if we’re in for a change in the weather. No matter, tonight is going to be fine, and that’s what counts right now.

I’m enjoying our walk, laughing and joking with my friends, but as we get closer to The Joint I begin to feel nervous. I start to wonder if my decision is a smart one, or if it’s still too soon. I suppose I can always change my mind—that’s a woman’s prerogative, right? I picture James’ handsome face. Why would I want to change my mind? Because the first time is always scary, that’s why.

I must have unconsciously slowed my pace, because all of a sudden my three friends are several yards in front of me.

Marissa is the first to notice. She stops and turns back toward me, a questioning look on her face.

“You okay, Heather?” she asks.

I pick up my pace. “Yeah, sorry,” I say. “I was just thinking. I guess I got distracted.”

“Thinking? Or worrying?” Marissa asks. She knows me all too well.

“A little of both,” I admit.

“You’re going to be fine,” Marissa says. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

I sure hope she’s right.

When we get to The Joint, Gary and Brandon are already inside. They’re sitting pretty close to the front, just to the right of center, at three tables James has pushed together for us. The guys give Marissa and Beth hugs and say hello to me and Katie. James is on the other side of the room talking to one of the waiters, but I catch his eye and he smiles and waves.

I take a seat by the end of the table, so James will be able to sit next to me on the end whenever he can get away from his duties. Marissa sits on my left, where she can provide maximum support and distraction. Gary takes the chair next to her, then come Brandon and Beth, with Katie down at the far end, an empty seat next to her for Grant, who arrives just a few minutes later.

James finally manages to break away and comes by to say hello.

“Now this is what I call a good-looking group,” he says, smiling. He leans down and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. “Especially you,” he whispers in my ear before straightening up.

The kiss and the comment serve to raise the temperature in the room a few degrees. I am one happy girl—still nervous, but happy.

“I’ll be back soon,” James says. He turns and heads toward the front doorway.

As I watch him weave his way among the tables, I decide that he looks equally good coming or going. I wonder if Marissa, Katie and Beth also think their guy is the best looking guy in the room. They probably do. They’d all be wrong, of course, but it’s good if they think that way.

Our waiter arrives a moment later. I’m not sure how well my stomach will handle solid food right now, so I order a strawberry banana smoothie instead. The rest of my friends all order real food, and our waiter scurries away toward the kitchen.

Our order is so large he has to make three trips to our table to bring all the food. When he puts down the last of the dishes, there is still no smoothie for me. Before I can say anything, James is standing next to me, a big pink smoothie in his hand.

“I had them put extra strawberries in it,” he says as he places the tall glass in front of me. He knows I love strawberries. He’s always doing little things like that for me.

“Thanks,” I say. I take a quick sip. “It’s delicious.”

James reaches down and gives my hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he says. And away he goes again.

Marissa has gotten fries to go with her burger, and they look and smell awfully good. She catches me eyeing them and tells me to take a few, so I do. The fries taste almost as good as my smoothie, so I’m pretty well set.

I’m starting to feel more nervous again. I wish James was sitting here next to me, rather than working, but if he didn’t work here we wouldn’t be getting the special treatment we’re getting tonight, so I don’t really mind. As soon as everyone’s done eating, he’ll be able to spend more time here with me. And I’m
really
grateful for the special treatment I’ll be getting in just a little while.

Our table is among the last to finish eating, and our waiter has barely cleared our dishes away when the MC bounces up onto the stage.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to open mic night at The Joint.” The usual cheers follow his greeting. “We’re going to start things off a little differently tonight. We’ve had a special request, and since it’s from someone who’s a close friend of a member of The Joint family, we’ve cheerfully agreed to break with tradition just a bit.”

My stomach is beginning to churn. Where’s James? I need him here right now, in more ways than one. I look toward the employee break room and see him emerging through the doorway. He smiles, and I immediately feel a little bit better.

“Most of you know we usually begin with Anthony Tomaso,” the MC says. He waits while another flurry of cheers quiets down. “Anthony is here tonight, and he’ll be performing for you in just a bit.”

Tomaso is sitting up front to the left, and he smiles and waves his hand to the crowd as they applaud him.

“Before we get to Anthony, though,” the MC continues, “we’ve got a special guest for you.”

James has made it to our table and takes the seat next to me. He’s brought my guitar, which has been waiting safely in the break room.

I’m really nervous now. My hands are shaking as James hands me my guitar. The special guest the MC is talking about is me. I had James ask if I could perform first, so I’d have less chance to chicken out or be intimidated by the other performers. Now I wish I hadn’t requested the favor. Maybe I should have gone last, or after that crummy comedian, if he’s here. Yeah, that might have been better. Anything but going first.

Marissa knows how I’m feeling. She lays her hand gently on my forearm.

“You can do this, Heather,” she says. “I know you can. You’ll be great.”

I wish I shared her confidence. How did I get myself into this? I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind. I’m about to do just that.

“Our first guest will be performing tonight for the first time anywhere,” the MC says. “We’re thrilled she chose The Joint for her debut. Give it up for Heather!”

Oh god, what have I gotten myself into? I’m frozen in my seat. That’s probably a good thing, because if I try to stand, I don’t think my legs will support me. James gets up and takes my hand. He gently pulls me from my seat and walks me up to the stage. He gives my hand a firm squeeze before returning to his seat.

I sit down and the MC lowers the microphone for me.

A moment later, I’m all alone on stage. My heart is racing and my mouth is dry. How am I ever going to sing? I look at James. He’s smiling warmly up at me. He doesn’t know it yet, but this is my present to him.

I close my eyes, trying to wipe away everything but the feel of my guitar on my lap. I’m in my room, playing by myself, the way I’ve done a thousand times before. I begin strumming the strings. I’ve picked the perfect song, and I’ve been practicing it for weeks. It’s one of Taylor Swift’s, of course, because who does awesome love better than Taylor? And this one almost could have been written specifically for me and James.

I play the introductory chords several times—more than I’m supposed to. I need to begin singing soon, or I may never start. Not to mention that I could get booed off the stage if I don’t do something pretty quickly. Thank goodness the opening words are so simple—just a string of “oh’s” is all. I begin singing.

There’s no turning back now. But that doesn’t mean I have to open my eyes yet. As long as I keep them closed, I’m alone in my room. I’ll open them when the time is right.

I’m singing about being down by the lake, and I ad lib a line about skipping rocks on the water. The words come easily to me—why shouldn’t they? It may be Taylor’s song, but it’s my story. I reach the key line in the whole song and I open my eyes, fastening them on James’ face. I’m singing to him. There’s no one else in the room.

A huge smile lights up his face. He’s looking at me with more love than I ever thought I would find. Fairy tales can come true, I think as I sing to him that he is far and away the best thing I’ve ever had in my life.

He truly is. The very best thing ever. And he’s MINE!

The End