On Her Way Home (26 page)

Slowly she turned around to identify the culprit. Mac stood fearlessly behind her. The bail of the empty bucket swung in his hand, and a brilliant, but naughty, smile saturated his face. His eyes twinkled insolently at her. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, his lips telling a different story as he fought to control his laughter. His expression held as much believability as a wayward schoolboy. “I couldn’t help myself,” he submitted, raising his hands innocently before him, as the guilty always do.

Jo walked up to him slowly, standing directly in front of him so that their boots were touching. Doing her best to intimidate, she leveled fiery eyes at him. “You will regret that!” she threatened, her voice ringing with promise.

Mac wanted to take her seriously and tried his best to cage the laughter in his gut, but it was hopeless. The deep boom of his laugh erupted from his throat and echoed around the yard, tears springing up at the corners of his eyes. Small Jo, with water still dripping down her shocked face, threatening him in her most menacing voice, slayed him. She had the backbone of a soldier, but even so she couldn’t best him, and they both knew it.

His uncontrollable laughter offended her more, and she punched him as hard as she could in the arm, hurting her hand in the process. Mac curled his shoulders into a defensive ball, shaking and staggering to the side, weak with glee. Her physical attack was even more comical than her sinister threat, causing Mac to burst into another round of hysterics.

Realizing her threats were only creating further amusement for Mac, she turned away from him and sloshed proudly to the house, with her back straight and her chin pointing to the sky.

Rushing up behind her, Mac wrapped her in a bear hug. Still working to control his laughter, he crooned, “I’m sorry. I really am.” He turned her around to face him. “Are you going to punch me again?” he teased, his dimples flashing at her.

“I want to!” Jo exclaimed baldly.

Mac hugged her to him lightheartedly. “Truce? All right?”

Jo pulled away from him, still annoyed that he’d laughed in her face. “Truce? I haven’t even gotten you back yet!”

Mac rubbed his upper arm as if it were sore. “You punched me!”

Jo wanted to keep up her offended charade, but she was losing the battle to Mac’s penitent glint and persuasive dimples. Seeing her soften and sway, Mac nudged her shoulder as they walked to the porch. “How about a deal then?” he prodded.

Jo looked at him speculatively.

“If we quit early for the day and we all go swimming, can we call it a truce?”

Jo’s face lit up, showing excitement at the prospect of an afternoon cooling off in the river and enjoying the summer sun, instead of cooking in it. “Deal,” she agreed, accepting the bribe and extending her hand while biting her lower lip to repress a smile.

All business, Mac gripped her small hand in his and shook it soundly. “Deal,” he repeated. Still holding her hand, he jerked her closer to him and leaned down, overwhelming her with his stature. “That lip still looks enticing,” he drawled, surveying her intensely and watching his words register before jauntily walking away.

Jo climbed the porch steps, privately thrilled with his confession.

“Oh, it’s good to have him back again,” Mattie sighed happily to Jo, as she watched Mac swing Sam up onto his back and jog off to the barn with him. Despite Jo’s wet clothes, Mattie threw her arm around Jo’s waist and hugged her dotingly. “Jo…Jo. Our Joy,” she breathed, squeezing Jo’s wet braid.

***

Thirty minutes later, examining herself in the mirror, Jo regretted writing that letter home months ago, in which she’d asked her Mother to purchase and send her a bathing costume. As always, Jo’s mother had come through, and two weeks ago Leif had brought a package from home up to her room. The suit, hated and despised by Jo, had lived unworn in the top dresser drawer since its arrival. Not only was it, in her opinion, completely unflattering, but also the material was knit wool. No doubt it was a brilliant design for women who were shapeless and straight with the body of a young boy, but on Jo the cut was terrible. From her full chest, the coarse navy fabric draped in a wide box to her hips and then fitted tightly down to the middle of her thigh.

Jo had slumped on the bed, holding the despicable garment in her hand distastefully, picturing a wide waterlogged sheep swimming the backstroke. She craved the water, like a man walking through the desert for days with nothing to drink, except instead of drinking it, she wanted to submerse herself in it and soak her skin in its cool balm…but not in this horrid bathing suit.

Jo flopped her arms across the bureau, leaning on it with a droop.
There must be something else I can wear swimming, even one of my dresses
, she thought anxiously. Alive with the idea, Jo rushed to the closet, tearing through her wardrobe and dismissing every item for the plain fact that they were all light colored and if wet, clingy. She stomped across the floor and threw herself dejectedly into the chair, the baggy itchy swimsuit gathering in volumes around her middle. Jo pulled and twisted the fabric violently, wondering if she could somehow get a better fit. A knock startled her from her seat.

“Don’t come in!” she shouted hysterically, rushing to the bed with a fearful glance at the door and quickly grabbing a pillow to shield herself.

Mac, hearing her frantic movements and the panic in her voice, assumed she must be in a state of undress. Where once, the two-inch pine door seemed solid and thick to him, it was now nothing but a scant and flimsy splinter. Clearing his throat, he called through the door, “We are ready to go. Are you coming?”

“No,” she yelled back.

“
No
?” he questioned, surprise registering in his voice.

“No, I mean yes. YES…I am coming…but I will meet you down at the swimming hole,” she hollered from the other side of door, sounding frazzled and distressed to Mac, which was out of character for her.

“All right,” he yelled, waiting for a response. “We are going then.” He listened again and still only heard silence from behind the thin door. Shaking his head at the oddity of women, Mac left the house and headed for the river with Sam, Charlie, and Leif.

From her bedroom window Jo watched them cut across the field and disappear into the trees and, not for the first time in her life, wished resentfully that she could be as carefree as a man.

The summer Jo had stopped swimming at the lake with her brothers, they had unceasingly persecuted her, trying to persuade her to join them again. One day after being badgered by Caleb and Travis all morning, she finally decided to give the lake another try. They assured her that the rude boy Caleb had socked in the face hadn’t been back since that day, but upon arrival there was a large group of schoolboys, and Jo lost her courage. Making an excuse that she didn’t feel well, she left, running all the way home and jumping into the safe, calm waters of her private pond.

The next day, her brothers bullied her again, and Travis even made up a stupid chant to try and goad her into coming. “Little baby Jo, won’t put in a toe.” He pestered her all day long with it, even pretending to dip his big toe in water and then shiver and die. Travis wasn’t her most clever brother, but he was the most persistent. Jo had been sitting in the living room, plunking away at the piano when in strode Travis, asking her if she was coming to the lake with them and why she was being such a stick in the mud. He broke into his juvenile chant again, singing it over and over in a sing-song way, until finally Mother smarted into the room from around the corner, threatening him sternly. “Travis Swenson, that is
enough
! Since you like singing so much, I’ll tell Sister Opal you’ll be at church early on Sunday morning for choir rehearsal.” After one more ominous look for Travis’s benefit, Mother whooshed out of the room, the hem of her dress wafting snappishly behind her. Mother’s threat about Travis singing in the choir was enough to shut him up, so after sticking his tongue out at Jo, he took his towel and left.

Johnny, who had been the only brother out of the three to avoid pestering her, moved across the room to Jo and placed his hand on her shoulder. He entreated with an earnest expression on his face, “Jo. Come.”

She had wanted to go, but the thought of that pack of boys and the shyness over her new developing body were too great for her, so cowardly she shook her head. Disappointment settled in Johnny’s eyes to Jo’s regret. Unlike Travis and Caleb, he seemed to comprehend her reasons for avoiding the lake, and he wanted her to rise up and overcome them, but she just couldn’t. Johnny dropped his hand from her shoulder and said a quiet goodbye, his wistful tone hinting of a sadder parting. Swimming at the lake together wasn’t the only thing he’d been bidding farewell to. It was a goodbye to the slapdash, fun romps of childhood when Jo was just his wild little sister, not a woman with insecurity already blooming in her eyes.

Jo sat on the edge of the bed, still wrestling with the bunching fabric of her navy blue swimsuit, the chant running through her mind: “Little baby Jo, won’t put in a toe.” An epiphany couldn’t erase years of self-deprecating thoughts overnight. Like wagon tracks slicing the prairie, their heavy burden upon her soul left deep and abiding ruts, long after their crossing.

Jo returned to the mirror and gazed at the woman before her.
I can continue to hide in my room or I can bully up, make peace with this hideous swimsuit, and enjoy the day
, she reprimanded herself. Quickly rummaging through her dresser, Jo pulled out a white cotton belt and tied it in a sash around her middle, creating a waist that was previously absent from the garment. Before she could change her mind, she threw a light dress on over her suit, slipped on her shoes, and bounded out the back door.

***

Gratefully, when Jo arrived at the river, everyone was already in the water, everyone that is except Leif, who was lounging on the rocky beach. He glanced up at her as she jogged down the path through the trees. “I thought you were going to pass up this rare opportunity,” he grinned, speaking of only the second time they had quit work early all summer.

“I’m here,” Jo said brightly, in spite of her misgivings. She glanced at Leif speculatively then bravely said, “I ordered a bathing suit so I could swim this summer. I’m a smidge uncomfortable with it though.”

Leif perked up on the beach, smiling eagerly. “Oh yeah, let’s see it then,” he said, craning his neck around to get a better look.

Jo glared at him. “If you say one word, I’m leaving!” she hissed. “Now, turn around.”

Leif did as she commanded, his shoulders jumping as he chuckled.

Jo scanned the water. The river was lower now that it was later in the summer and floated along at a slower pace. Sam was holding onto Mac’s hands with his legs stretched out behind him, kicking furiously but going nowhere. He took a breath at the wrong moment and inhaled a mouthful of water, causing him to lunge upward with alarmed pupils. Mac held him against his chest and patted him on the back until he caught his breath again. The water looked inviting, but still Jo hesitated, feeling exposed and self-conscious.

Mac glanced at Jo from the corner of his eye. She seemed preoccupied and nervous, shifting her eyes from him to Leif, over to Charlie and back to the river. Her blue dress whistled around her legs in the wind, and he couldn’t help himself from speculating about what was underneath it; regretfully, though, it wouldn’t be the peach slip. Recognizing that Jo was embarrassed to be seen in whatever swimwear she had on, Mac was careful to keep his head turned from her, but it didn’t stop him from observing her in his peripheral vision.

“Are you going to get in or not?” Leif prodded from his seated position on the beach, turning around to look at her.

“Not a word,” Jo reminded him steely, pointing with her finger to the river where she directed his gaze.

Smirking, Leif rotated his head around, but when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Jo’s blue dress pool onto the beach, he couldn’t resist teasing her and let out a low moan.

“YOU!” Jo fumed at him, shoving him hard in the back with her palms. Leif jolted forward, laughing loudly at her shy modesty.

“Jo…I had no idea you were such a bluenose.” He laughed heartily, looking over her womanly curves approvingly.

With a furious sweep of her leg, Jo kicked a barrage of round pebbles from the beach at him. Leif held his hands out, snickering behind them while trying to deflect some of the rocks. “Enough, enough,” he submitted, climbing to his feet. “Here, I’ll shield you while you get in the water,” he offered gallantly.

“Oh, go stuff yourself!” Jo spat at him, stomping down the slope of rocks in her wool suit to the river and diving in.

It took only five minutes of lounging in the lazy current for Jo to feel relaxed and revived, all her agony over a mere bathing suit forgotten.

Once the deadly glaze in her eyes was gone and she was acclimated to the water, Leif swam out to her, hoping to mend fences. “I’m sorry I teased you.” Jo splashed him in the face. “I suppose I deserved that,” he acknowledged, dashing the water out of his eyes with his hand.

The afternoon slipped happily away as the group floated in the current, splashed one another, threw rocks, and sunbathed. Jo was having such a heavenly time that her appearance became a non-issue. Charlie, Leif, and Mac were her friends, and it was almost like swimming alongside her brothers again. She was free to be herself, to be one of them. Across the river on the back wall was a small ledge. She watched Leif and Charlie swim over to it and begin the careful climb upwards. When they were about twenty feet above the water, they jumped off and out into the deep pool. Jo joined them and spent the better part of an hour repeating the climb and jump, enjoying it more each time.