Tempus (9 page)

“Just say it, Steve.”

“You are beautiful.  I’ve been watching you grow up right in front of me, watching stupid guys take you out, watching you get rid of them, watching you move on, watching you ignore me, and watching you grow up...”

“You said that one already.”  I had mixed emotions.  The old me would have known what to say or do.  The new and improved me didn’t know whether to kiss him or kick him.  I decided to do neither, yet.

“I have wrestled with this since your last birthday.”

“My birthday?”  That shocked me.  Yep, it sure did.  “You were still dating
Alecia
on my birthday!”

“I know.  Why do you think I wrestled with it?  She made it easy for me last month, though.  She was supposed to be back two months ago, but she hooked up with some guy.  I found out, and it didn’t even bother me at all.  I was glad about it, really.  It gave me an excuse to end something that was already over anyway.” 

“Wow, sorry it happened that way.”  I wondered what the guy looked like.  As much as I would have hated to admit it yesterday, Steve was an extremely good-looking guy.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not.”  He squeezed my hand again.  “So, here we are, and I have a dilemma.”

“What
dilemma
?”

“You are still the bosses’ daughter, I am still too old for you, and you are still the best girl I have ever known.”  Hand squeeze again.  “And right this moment, there is nothing I would rather do than kiss you.”

He looked at me questioningly, searching my face.  I knew he was looking to see how I would respond.  He reached over and clicked the buckle loose, slid an arm behind me, and pulled just a little toward the center of the bench seat, watching my eyes intently.  When he pulled, I slid the direction he was pulling me, just a small amount.  Inch by inch we came closer, one small move at a time, until we were a breath apart.  My heart was galloping now.  His eyes looked down to my lips, his head tilted slowly to the side, and my eyes closed.

His lips were warm and soft.  I felt his other arm go around me and pull me closer, hold me tighter.  My own arms went up by themselves, around his broad shoulders, and my right hand found the back of his neck and rested there.

I had always expected fireworks.  I always thought that when I kissed
the one,
it would be New Years Eve, Chinese style.  I always thought I would feel like I was exploding.  My heart was pounding, and I was breathless, and I was certainly enjoying this very much, but—there was something missing.  It was
almost
.  Maybe ‘almost’ was the best we ever got in
real
life.  Stupid romance novels.

I tried to make my mind shut up, to just let me be there in the moment. 
This
was the moment I had once wanted more than anything else, wasn’t it? 
When I was thirteen
.  What about now?  What did I want
now
?  The blue-eyed boy flashed behind my closed eyes.  I pushed the thought away, but it kept coming back.  What would kissing
him
be like?

For just a moment, I allowed myself to imagine it was
his
lips kissing mine.  I don’t know what happened in that split-second, but
everything
changed.  The kiss was deeper, more sensual, and more urgent.  I felt a tingle up and down my spine, and my arms tightened.  My fingers reached up to touch that—
spiky gelled hair
!  I stopped and let go.

I was gasping for air, and felt dizzy.  I sat back in shock, and shook my head to clear it.  My eyes flew open, and stared into beautiful green eyes.  Fiery, hungry eyes.  Green.  Not blue.  I was an awful person.

“Me too.”  He gasped, reacting to my actions.  “Where did you learn to kiss like
that
?  I have never been kissed like that. 
I’m in trouble
.”  Steve slumped back against his seat, closed his eyes, and rubbed his face with his hands.  “I’m in big,
big
trouble.”

I didn’t comprehend what he meant.  I was feeling so guilty.  Steve was kissing me, and I was kissing someone else.  I was thankful that there was no way he could know.  I needed to get home; I needed to
think
.  “I think I better go home.”

“I think I better take you.”

In the real world, nothing happens at the right place at the right time.

—Mark Twain

We both sat in stunned silence, for different reasons.  I allowed Steve to pull me to the center of the seat, reach across, and buckle me in.  I allowed him to hold my hand.  I even held his hand back, tightly, and leaned against him.  He let go long enough to turn up the stereo, find a nice song, and start singing with it.  He had a very nice singing voice, a little higher than one would have expected.  I made a mental note. 

I was silent all the way home.  I had no idea what Steve thought of that, or if he thought it was good or bad.  It didn’t seem to bother him, so I tried not to let it bother me either.  I don’t think I could have had a conversation, so I was glad he wasn’t
talky
Steve right now.

We had sat in the parking lot for longer than I thought.  There were already deep shadows across the back part of the porch and yard.  When we pulled in, Steve unbuckled me, and kissed my cheek.  “Wait there for just one second,” he said as he exited.  A moment later, he was opening my door, holding out a hand for me to take.  Once I was down, he reached back inside, grabbed my all-but-forgotten bags, and carried them up the steps toward the kitchen door. 
The door!

“Wait!”  I blurted just as he was reaching to open it.

He stopped and turned around, setting down the bags.  “You’re probably right.  I should let
you
go in.  I look guilty as hel... heck.”

Suddenly he took me by the arm and pulled me around the corner of the house, to the back porch.  He caught me in his big, strong arms, and laid one on me.  This kiss was not as gentle, but it wasn’t forceful either.  He was a very good kisser.  Better than anyone else I had ever kissed, by a
lot
.  Moments later, I heard the door open, and my dad’s voice call, “Jessie!  You out there?”

Steve released me, and we both tried not to breathe too loudly.  It was not easy.  I took a gulp of air.  “Back here, Dad.”  Another gulp of air.  “Talking to Steve.”

“Okay, I’m in the middle of a show so I got to get back in.  Just making sure you were home.”  I heard the door close.

Steve took my hand and walked me over to the porch swing.  He sat down and pulled me onto his lap.  I didn’t know if this was some kind of show, but I would never have guessed Steve for the romantic type.  I thought of the box he had carved me.  That was not for romance, but it was very sweet.  It would indicate romantic potential upon reassessment.  I also had not missed his earlier use of the same words from the note.  Steve was a romantic. 
Cool
.

He pulled me back against his chest and pushed the swing with his foot.  We just sat there, swinging, watching the shadows lengthen.  Mrs. Watson started playing her piano, one of those songs full of longing.  Her playing always made me sad, but in a good way.  It also made me introspective. 

Sitting there, wrapped in strong arms, I tried to see if I could picture us old together.  It was one of those senseless tests that I tried to put off for weeks, because everyone failed.  They always failed.  I could almost picture Steve. 
Almost
.

When his hand moved to my chin, I let him pull my face around to his.  Our lips met.  This kiss was slow, tender, and thoughtful.  His skin had a nice scent.  I could feel the slightest bit of stubble, but it was not unpleasant. 

“Now you’ve had your kiss on the porch swing.  It only took four years.”  He sighed and leaned his head against mine. 

Steve was trying to earn all his points at one time, he just didn’t know it.  For someone who didn’t know, he was effective.  When the music ended, he kissed my ear, and propped me up to face him.  “I would like to talk to you.  We haven’t talked in a long time.  You know, you used to tell me everything, even things I didn’t want to know.”  He smiled thoughtfully.  “That was a
long
time ago.”

A guy that wanted to talk?  The points were racking up.  Had he been reading my diary?  If so, it as good as said ‘
I want a romantic man who loves to kiss and talk and hold me in his arms’. 
It would make a good guidebook for someone trying to make points.  I simply said, “I’d like that.”

“I better go before your dad comes looking for you.  Can I call you later tonight?”  He was helping me to my feet, steadying me while I regained my balance.

“Sure.  You have the number, right?  My cell?  I don’t even know what my own number is.”

“I’ve got it.  I helped your dad set everything up, so I programmed it in my phone, in case I ever needed it.  I tried to talk your dad into getting one, but he said he never goes anywhere.  It sure would have helped that night you got stuck at the creek, though.”

I remembered trudging through the mud and walking for what seemed like hours to get to a house so Dad could call Steve.  “Yeah.  My legs hurt for a
week
after that!”

He walked me to the door, holding my hand.  It was dark enough now on this side of the house that the light was already on and the first few bugs were buzzing around it.  I turned to face Steve, to say goodnight, and he placed both his hands on either side of my face, giving me one soft, deep kiss.  He whispered “goodnight” before he let go.

“Goodnight.”  I picked up my bags as he opened and held the door for me.

I went inside, watching the door close behind me.  I watched him walk to the monster, glancing back a couple of times to smile at me. 
Points
for looking back,
points
for nice smile,
points
for pretty teeth.  As he climbed into the Monster I thought,
lots
of points for the truck itself, and for knowing how to drive it.  As he backed up, light fell across his face and he blew a kiss—he was going for extra credit.  It worked.

The headlights swept across the fence as he left the drive and I turned away, making a beeline to my room.  My bags seemed heavier than they’d been, and they slapped against my legs with every step up the stairs.  By the time I got to the top, I was huffing and puffing.  I burst through my bedroom door and fell face first onto my bed, physically and emotionally exhausted.  I told myself to slow down and take deep breathes—in through the nose, out through the mouth. 

I’d dropped my bags just inside the doorway.  I jumped back up, then paused a second.  I went over to my mirror and took a good look at myself.  I looked older.  I looked
good
.  My face was flushed, cheeks pink.  I turned myself around and looked from different angles.  I loved my new hair, I loved my new clothes, and I loved the new and improved me!

I went to my bags and tried on every outfit, mixing and matching, trying different combinations.  I checked them out in the mirror each time, took notes on what looked the best and why.  I changed into my stretchy shorts and a tee shirt, hung up all my new clothes, and put together my new makeup bag.  I hoped I could remember everything the sales clerk told me.  Why was I worried, I could do makeup, I was an
artist
!

An artist.  I went over to my bed, reached beneath my pillow, and pulled out the sketch.  My heart still skipped when I looked at those eyes.  “We had a date, didn’t we?  I’m not breaking it, but I have to postpone it, just for a little while.  You understand.”  I kissed my finger, stuck it to the face, and then slid the notebook back under my pillow.

I rolled off my bed, found my phone on the nightstand, and called Julie.  She answered on the first ring.  “Jessie?”

“Ohmigod, Julie, I have to tell you something!  Steve
kissed
me!”

“
What
?  Oh, Jessie, start at the beginning, tell me
everything
!”  So I did.

Over an hour later, I heard the phone beep in my ear.  I told Julie my phone was beeping at me.  “It’s call waiting, maybe it’s him, look at the phone and see.”

I looked.  “It is!  See you tomorrow!  Bye!”  I had to look a second to see what I was supposed to push, but I figured it out and said “Hello?”

“Hi, Jessie, It’s Steve.”

“Hi Steve.”

“I have a question.”  He paused.

“What is it?”

“Would you like to go out to dinner tomorrow night, and maybe see a movie?”

A date.  “I’ll have to ask my dad.”

“I’ll ask your dad tomorrow at work.  I’ll ask his permission.”

It was hard not to squeal.  Ask my dad’s
permission
?  The points were racking up!  “Sure, okay.  If he says yes, I’d love to.”

“Great!”

We didn’t talk for a lengthy time, and most of it was unimportant things.  We talked about favorite music, bands, colors, time of year.  We talked about books, and antiques.  We talked about the store,
my
dad,
his
college courses.  I was getting sleepy and yawned a couple of times, so he told me goodnight.  I put my new phone on the charger and set it on the table beside my bed.