The Lighthouse

by Melanie Wilber

  He distanced himself a bit, giving me the space to say whatever I needed to say, and I knew he was ready to listen. His eyes held concern, not overly so, but enough for me to be reminded this wasn’t just about physical closeness for him. He never made me feel that way, and I had no evidence to suggest that was changing.

  I decided to tell him about Jayson and our brief relationship. He had asked before, but I hadn’t felt comfortable telling him all the details then, so I’d just said we had gone out a few times and to Prom, and that it hadn’t been anything special for me. But tonight I told him exactly why I hadn’t gone out with him after that night.

  “I wasn’t even close to being ready for that, and I couldn’t see myself being ready for a long time, so I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore, and I didn’t talk to him after that.”

  “Or date anyone else?”

  “No,” I replied. “But that wasn’t why. I didn’t get asked out again before school ended or anytime this summer.”

  “So, you’re a virgin? Is that what you’re saying?”

  I hadn’t been thinking about it that way. Yes, I was a virgin, and that made me extremely inexperienced with that side of things, but it wasn’t like I never wanted Jonathan to touch me or try anything. I just wanted him to know I didn’t have any experience so he would understand when I didn’t know what to do exactly. And I also knew it was fair for me to let him know, rather than letting him assume I knew what I was doing and then be rudely disappointed when he discovered otherwise.

  But I answered the question as simply as he had asked it, waiting to see what his initial thoughts were. His soft smile emerged, but I didn’t know why until he said so.

  “I’m happy to hear that, Jennifer.”

  I had expected him to say, ‘That’s okay,’ or ‘Don’t worry about it,’ or possibly, ‘You’re kidding.’ But, ‘I’m happy to hear that.’? What did that mean?

  “You are?” I laughed. “Why?”

  He didn’t laugh. He was smiling, but his expression was too serious for laughter. Leaning close and resting his forehead on my temple, he uttered his response.

  “Because I am too.”

  It made sense if I thought about it. He hadn’t had any serious relationships before this, but I hadn’t equated that with him never having sex before. I knew girls who had been with guys they weren’t officially dating. Some of those guys could probably say they had never dated anyone or had a girlfriend before, but I realized Jonathan wasn’t that kind of guy and never had been. In the same way he had waited for the right girl to date, he was waiting for the right one to be with.

  I wanted to ask if he was ready for us to be together, but I waited for him to speak again, knowing that if he was, he would probably say so. But I didn’t expect him to do anything about it tonight. He would be one to plan a special time for us, not try and have sex with me whenever he could get me alone sometime.

  Jonathan adjusted his position, pulling me close to him and allowing me to rest comfortably in his arms. I laid my head on his upper chest, and he gently rubbed my arm with his fingers. I closed my eyes and imagined being with him like that someday in a special place and it being a special time for us, but Jonathan had more to say, and I was listening.

  “I haven’t been with anyone before because I don’t take sex lightly, Jennifer. I know a lot of guys do and are ready to be with anyone, anywhere, at anytime, but not me. I’m not even looking for us to go there. Not now, and not for a long time.”

  “You can’t imagine it with me?” I asked, knowing that didn’t make sense with the way he had been kissing me ten minutes ago, but what else could he mean?

  He laughed softly. “No, I can imagine it, Jennifer. I can imagine it quite vividly.”

  I felt confused and looked up at him. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I want us to wait. There will be a time for that, but it’s not now.”

  I didn’t feel opposed to his words, but I was curious about what he was thinking. “How long do you want to wait?”

  “Until we get married.”

  I thought he was joking. “Come on, I’m serious.”

  “I am serious, Jennifer.”

  I knew he was, but I didn’t know what to say.

  “Does that disappoint you?”

  I thought about that. Was I disappointed to hear him say such a thing? No, I wasn’t. But I couldn’t help but wonder if we would ever get there. Jonathan wanting to marry me? That seemed impossible.

  “No, it doesn’t disappoint me,” I replied. “But it seems--” I didn’t know the word for it.

  “Old-fashioned?”

  “No. I wasn’t thinking that. I mean it seems unrealistic.”

  “People have waited until marriage. My parents did.”

  I didn’t know if my parents had waited or not. My mom had never told me, and I’d never asked. But still, that wasn’t the issue for me. I sat up more fully and said exactly what I was thinking.

  “I mean it seems unrealistic that I will ever marry you.”

  He appeared hurt by that statement.

  “No, I don’t mean that,” I laughed. “I could marry you, Jonathan. God, who couldn’t?”

  His expression returned to normal, but he obviously wasn’t following me.

  “What I mean is, I can’t imagine you asking me that. I can’t imagine you wanting to marry me.”

  This time he laughed and sat forward to give me a sweet kiss. “Why ever not? You make me fall in love with you in a month, but you don’t think I could marry you? I could marry you right now, sweetheart.”

  I didn’t respond. I was too shocked to respond.

  He kissed me again, more tenderly this time. “I love you, Jennifer,” he whispered.

  He kissed me again, and I let him. I felt so defenseless against his words and his touch. He took me to another place. A place away from harsh realities of life and the fear of anything bringing this to an end. I wasn’t sure if this was love, but I hoped it was. I hoped love was this wonderful and this real, and I wanted it to last forever.

  “Were you afraid of me taking things too far?” he asked. “Is that why you weren’t enjoying my kisses?”

  “No, I was enjoying them. And you make me feel safe. I wasn’t afraid of you or this, I was just feeling afraid of losing you.”

  “You’re not losing me,” he said in a way that dispelled my fears about losing him to someone else. But there was another possibility.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You mean losing me tragically, like you lost your dad?”

  “Yes.”

  He took my hand and held it gently. “You’re right, I don’t. But I don’t think living in fear is the answer. God never wants us to be afraid. That isn’t the spirit He has given us.”

  I was listening and waited for him to go on.

  “Fear is a part of darkness, not the light. Fear never comes from God.”

  “But how can we never be afraid? Bad things happen, Jonathan. Maybe they haven’t happened to you, but it happened to me.”

  “God doesn’t say that bad things never happen, He just says we don’t have to be afraid of them. And you know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because He always makes everything okay. Even the most difficult and tragic circumstances.”

  He let me think for a moment and then asked if I could agree with that.

  “Well, sort of. I mean, I lost my dad; my mom lost her husband; but we’re okay.”

  “But?”

  “But what about my dad?” I let the tears surface. “Is he okay? Where is he?”

  Jonathan hugged me and held me as I cried softly. I remembered when he died, Mama told me he was in Heaven, but as I’d gotten older I had wondered if there was such a place, and if he got to go there. And if I would ever see him again.

  “He’s okay,” Jonathan said. “He’s with God, Jennifer. He’s not gone, just in a different place. And it doesn’t make sense to us, but i
t makes sense to God. There’s a reason. There’s always a reason.”

  I believed his words, and I felt myself stepping out of the darkness on that issue. From the scary unknown into the light of truth. A peace settled over my heart, and I rose above my grief and my fears of never seeing my dad again, and of losing Jonathan or someone else close to me.

  Eventually we got around to our studying, and we helped each other by asking the questions at the end of the chapters. The subject Jonathan was taking was foreign to me, but he was quite familiar with the chemistry I was waist-deep in at this point of the trimester. It wasn’t over my head, but it took some serious thought and memory to keep everything straight.

  “You are amazingly smart,” he complimented me after a round of tough questions I answered with nearly one-hundred percent accuracy. I got mixed up on a couple of things, but a little more focused memorization over the weekend would solve the problem. “Do you actually retain this kind of stuff, or is it gone after the exam is over?”

  “I retain most of it,” I said. “I’m a geek. What can I say?”

  He smiled. “You’re a very beautiful geek.”

  That was the extent of our studying for the evening, but it wasn’t the end of our date. And we weren’t at the beach or anyplace romantic, but I enjoyed it as much as if we were.

  When he walked me back, he kissed me several times outside the door, and he asked me how I was doing. “No more doubts about how much I want to be with you?”

  “No. You convinced me.”

  “And the fear about the other thing?”

  “I’ll try to not worry about it.”

  He seemed satisfied with that response. “I meant everything I said tonight, Jennifer.”

  “What did you say?” I teased him. “I can’t remember.”

  He smiled and reminded me without any hesitation. “I love you.”

  I replied with equal ease. “I think I love you too.”

  “I’m sorry you lost your dad. And anytime you need to talk about it, you’re welcome to.”

  “Thanks for what you said tonight. I needed someone to tell me that. Someone besides my mom when I was nine.”

  “Do you think she believes it, or that she just said it to comfort you?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t really talk about it. Maybe I’ll ask her when I go home.”

  “Maybe she needs someone to tell her that for a change.”

  “Yeah, maybe she does.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was late when I returned to the room, and I opened the door quietly. I thought Marissa might be sleeping, but she was still up, sitting at her desk hunched over a textbook and reading by the light of her desk lamp.

  “Hey,” I said when she looked at me. “You’re studying kind of late.”

  “Yeah,” she said, appearing tired. “I got behind on my reading this week, and I need to work on my mid-term essay for history this weekend. How was your evening?”

  I smiled shyly. “It was nice.”

  “I thought you and Jonny didn’t have much studying to do,” she teased sweetly. “I was expecting you back early tonight.”

  “We were talking,” I said.

  “Uh-huh,” she laughed, closing her book. “That must have been some good talking.”

  I laughed and didn’t try to hide anything about the more romantic nature of our evening, but I didn’t share any details with her. The things Jonathan and I had talked about were very personal to me, and I knew Marissa wouldn’t pry for any details. She had a way of being involved in our relationship as my friend and as Jonathan’s sister, but without being intrusive. I appreciated so many things about her. She was such a special person, and I felt very thankful to have her as a roommate and a friend.

  The following week was stressful with some midterms to take and a complicated lab that was due in Chemistry, but I made it through to Friday and was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. On Saturday Jonathan and I went to Marys Peak in the afternoon to get outdoors in the beautiful setting and have some time for just the two of us. We returned in time for dinner and invited Marissa to join us at the small off-campus place we often went to on Saturday evenings, sometimes by ourselves and sometimes with Marissa. We usually had dinner, sat and talked for an hour or more, and then had dessert too. So far I had tried a different flavor of milkshake every time and had loved every one. Tonight I ordered the mango banana, and it was amazing.

  Jonathan had promised a few of his friends some guy-time tonight, so he walked us back to our dorm and then left to meet Adam, Jeremy, and a few others for some racquetball and late-night bowling. Marissa and I didn’t feel much like studying and sat on our beds, talking for a long time. I told her some things about my relationship with Jonathan that surprised and delighted me, and she shared in my joy, not so much as Jonathan’s sister but as a girl who was hoping for something similar for herself. I told her about how I had watched Jodi go through various relationships over the last few years and how fortunate I felt to have stumbled upon something so different for myself than she had experienced.

  “I don’t think you stumbled upon anything, Jen. I think you knew what you wanted and waited for it to come along instead of settling for something that didn’t match up with the true desires of your heart--even if you weren’t sure what they were until you found them with Jonny.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I replied. I had no other explanation, and that made sense. “Is that why you haven’t gone out with anyone yet, because you haven’t found what you’re looking for?”

  “Yes, and I’m not exactly sure what kind of guy I’m waiting for, but someday I will.”

  “You’ll feel that way when you find the right major too. I know I’m crazy, but I love pre-med. I thought I would do okay with the classes, but I didn’t expect to actually enjoy them so much. Or college for that matter, but I love being here.”

  Marissa thought for a moment and then said something she seemed to have just realized. “I feel that way about my Spanish class. I took French in high school for two years, but I never enjoyed it much. I decided to take Spanish this term, just to try it, and so far I love it! I’m not sure why, I just do. It’s the only class I like to study for. Maybe that means something?”

  “Maybe,” I agreed. “There are plenty of career opportunities for those who are fluent.”

  “Yes, and I’ve always felt drawn to mission work of some kind, so those would fit together.”

  “Have you been on a trip like Jonathan has?”

  “Yes. I went to Mexico for Spring Break last year, and I really enjoyed the experience. I was frustrated I didn’t know Spanish though.” She laughed.

  “Frustration can be a good guide sometimes. We can either know what we want to avoid, or find motivation to bring change. People being denied medical care is a big one for me. If we don’t know how to provide healing or to prevent disease is one thing, but if we know and withhold care because people can’t pay for it or live in an area where it’s not available? That’s something I want to change.”

  “Maybe you should take Spanish too,” Marissa said. “You know, in case you go to a Spanish-speaking country someday with your medicines.”

  I didn’t tell her I had already been thinking a lot about that possibility, but I did tell her something she didn’t know about me, rattling off a few sentences in Spanish she likely didn’t understand.

  “What?” she laughed. “Is that Spanish?”

  “Si.”

  “You took it in high school?”

  “No, I took French, but my mother is Hispanic, and she taught us Spanish when we were growing up. She wanted us to be bilingual like she is. I thought a lot about being a foreign exchange student, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave my little corner of the world.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed you’re Hispanic.”

  “I know. My sister and brothers look more like my mom. I got more of my dad’s genes. Except for the dark hair. That’s all Mama.”

&n
bsp; “Why didn’t you tell me you know Spanish?”

  I laughed. “You didn’t ask, and you’ve been doing fine. But if you ever want help, I’m happy to do it.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll need some eventually. Four years sounds like a long time to have to study something to get good at it.”

  “If you enjoy it though, that will make it easier.”

  The following morning on the way to church Marissa was quick to ask Jonathan if he knew I was fluent in Spanish. I couldn’t remember if I had told him or not.

  “Are you?” he asked.

  I explained what I had told Marissa last night, but I said it all in Spanish. He caught most of it. I knew he spoke Spanish because he had told me it helped him with picking up Portuguese more quickly while he was in Brazil. He responded to me in Spanish, asking for clarification on a couple of words I’d used he wasn’t familiar with. I responded by using some more common synonyms, and then he asked me something about my mother. Where she had grown up and where my grandparents were from.

  “Speak English, please,” Marissa interrupted. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  Jonathan laughed. “You were the one who told me she speaks Spanish. This should come in very handy whenever we want to tell each other something private when you’re around.”

  I went ahead and answered him in English, knowing I hadn’t told Marissa about my heritage other than my mother was Hispanic. “She was born here in Oregon, in Salem. My grandparents moved there from Los Angeles when my grandfather got a job with the state. He was an accountant. They wanted to move to Oregon because it was less crowded than Los Angeles where they had both grown up. Most of my other relatives still live there, and my mom can trace her family all the way back to some of the earliest settlers who came to America from Spain. To Florida originally, and then they moved west until they settled in what is now California.”

  “Really?” Marissa said. “That’s so cool. I had to do a project for school last year on our ancestry, and I had a horrible time trying to figure out where our family came from. My mom knew a few generations back on her side, and one of my great-great somethings came from Ireland, we discovered, but otherwise most of it remains a mystery.”