The Year I Almost Drowned

by McCrimmon, Shannon

  “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked.

  “No. It’s better I do this on my own,” he answered and then gave me an appreciative smile.

  ***

  We sat inside Jesse’s car in my grandparents’ driveway. It was late, close to midnight. One light shined on the front porch. Jesse’s car was turned off, but it still felt warm inside. He had music playing from his CD player. Nina Simone’s seductive deep voice sang lyrics about loving and being loved. We sat facing each other. I could still smell the lavender and Jesse’s musky cologne.

  “I had a good time. This was the best birthday present,” I said. My fingers weaved into his.

  “Happy birthday, Finn.” He leaned forward to kiss me. It was gentle, Jesse’s lips barely grazed mine. Our foreheads touched and I could hear him taking soft breaths. He placed his thumb on my jaw line and caressed it.

  “It’s all going by so fast. I’ll be gone soon,” I fretted.

  “I know.” He ran his fingers through my hair.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “You won’t be that far away, Finn. Quit worrying. You should be excited about starting college.” He leaned forward and kissed me again. “Nothing’s going to change.”

  “It’s far away, though.”

  “It’s not that far, Finn. It’s not like you’re going to school in Alaska.”

  “But,” I started. What I really wanted to ask him was how are we supposed to keep dating with me in another state and you working? But I didn’t. I let my heart and hormones take over.

  My breath became heavier. My heart beat faster. I took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss him. And I kissed him. My hands ran through his soft wavy hair, to his strong muscular back, and down to his firm waist.

  “Finn,” he said breathlessly.

  “Yes,” I said, kissing his neck, his jaw, his lips. My hands rubbed his smooth chest, his rock hard stomach, and squeezed his muscular thighs.

  “Your grandparents are right inside you know,” he said.

  “So.” I continued to kiss him.

  “If you keep doing what you’re doing, I won’t want to stop,” he said and took a deep uneven breath. “And this dress of yours...” he touched my shoulder and ran his fingers to the top of my chest, “is turning me on.”

  I stopped kissing him and stared directly into his eyes. My face felt warm. His hair was disheveled. I could see his chest heaving back and forth from each solid, heavy breath he took. We always got to this point–a place where if we continued, we would cross that imaginary line. But I always pulled away and he didn’t pressure me. He said we would have sex on my terms–when I was ready. He wanted me to be one hundred percent sure. It would be our first time, not only together, but our first time ever. I really wanted to kiss him again and let it continue, but I knew it wasn’t the right place or the right time. I just wondered when that time would come.

  Chapter 4

  Jesse was on my mind. I wanted to know how it went with his dad but I had to be patient, to give him time. He needed some space. I kept checking the time on my phone. It was a little after six o’clock, and I still hadn’t heard from him. I hoped that everything had gone well. I could never truly relate to what Jesse was going through.

  I held the porcelain tea pot by its handle and poured Nana’s hot tea into a cup. Her tea was perfect: lots of sugar and evaporated milk. I carried the cup and walked outside to the front porch. It was starting to get dark out and was a little warmer than it had been. I sat down next to Nana on the swing and we swayed gently, rocking back and forth and back and forth again. Nana didn’t say anything. Instead, we just sat on the swing, moving, listening to a myriad of pleasant sounds: the rustling of trees blowing from the gentle breeze and a gaggle of geese migrating south for winter. She wrapped her arms around me and nudged me closer to her. Being wrapped in her arms made me feel safe.

  “I have a favor to ask of you,” she finally said, interrupting the silence.

  “Sure.” She could ask me anything and I’d give it to her without question.

  “Did you know your grandfather is an Elvis fan?”

  “Yes.” There were more songs from Elvis in the jukebox than any other musician. When he chose a song to play, it was always an Elvis tune.

  “He’s never been to Graceland, you know.” I gave her a confused look. “It’s Elvis’ home, honey,” she said, and I nodded my head in understanding. She continued, “He has always wanted to go.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In Memphis, Tennessee,” she answered and then paused for a minute. “Would you like to go with him? You know, on a road trip?”

  “Me.” I pointed to myself, my eyes widened in surprise. “Wouldn’t he rather go with you?”

  “He and I have spent oodles of time together. This could be a special trip, just the two of you, before you leave for college.” She formed an encouraging smile.

  “Sure,” I answered.

  She gently squeezed me and then said, “Thank you, Finn. Y’all should go within the next month. He really needs to do this.”

  I wondered what she meant by that last statement. I wanted to ask her why he needed to do it, what was the urgency, but Jesse’s car pulled up before I could say anything else to her.

  “That’s Jesse. I’ll leave you two alone to talk,” she said, letting go of me as she got up off the swing. I watched her go back inside the house and then looked over at Jesse who was walking up the porch steps.

  He plopped down next to me. “Hey.” He sounded exhausted.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  “It was okay,” he said seriously and with a thoughtful expression.

  “He’s lucky to have you.” I grabbed a hold of his hand and laced my fingers in his.

  “I don’t know how much I can help.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “This is something he’ll have to do on his own.” His forehead wrinkled with worry.

  “But you’ll be there to support him.”

  “I will, but he’ll have to live with wanting to have a drink everyday, and I can’t always be there to make sure he doesn’t.”

  “You have to see that your dad wants to stay sober as much as you want him to,” I pleaded.

  “You didn’t grow up with him. I’ve spent the last ten years taking care of him; I can’t allow myself to be optimistic. It’ll hurt too much if he does start drinking again.” He stood up and placed his hands on the porch rail and gazed at the star-filled sky.

  I got off the swing and moved next to him. “Have faith in him, Jesse,” I said, placing my hand on his.

  He turned to look down at me. “You’re really a good person, Finn. I wish I had half your heart.” He touched my face softly and slightly smiled. I blushed and then looked down. He put his hand to my chin and raised my head up. “I really love you, Finley Hemmings.”

  ***

  I had no idea what to pack for a trip to Graceland, so I put everything I thought I should into one suitcase: jeans; flip flops; tennis shoes; shorts; a gamut of items from my lackluster wardrobe. I closed the suitcase and carried it with me downstairs. As I took it outside with me to place in Grandpa’s truck, Nana drove into the driveway in a silver Chevrolet Camaro convertible. The top was down and the radio was blasting oldie tunes. The wind had messed up her short hair. Her cheeks were sun kissed. Driving closely behind her was Jesse, who parked his car right beside the convertible.

  I let go of the suitcase, dropping it on the porch, and stalked over to the car. The leaves crushed against my feet, crackling as I made each step. The front yard was inundated with fallen leaves. The trees were completely bare–winter was on its way.

  I looked at them both and then at the car in absolute disbelief. “Nana, did you buy a new car?” I asked.

 
She stepped out of the car and said, “Lord no, honey. I rented this for you and your grandfather. Y’all need to ride in style since you’re going to Graceland. That old truck of his wouldn’t get y’all past Knoxville.” She clicked a button and opened the trunk. “You can put your suitcase in there.” She pointed.

  “It’s really nice, Finn” Jesse said, while I continued to stare at the car.

  The screen door opened, and my grandfather walked out. “What the devil is that?” he asked in a huff.

  “That,” Nana said, approaching him, “is the car you and Finn are driving to Memphis.”

  He scowled. “We don’t need a car. I’ve got a truck.”

  “Your truck is as old as Methuselah, Charlie,” she said.

  “Jesse, you knew about this?” he asked.

  Jesse nodded confidently, smirking. He and Nana winked at each other. “Someone had to give her a ride to the car rental place,” he said.

  “Humph. It’s a bit showy for a trip to Memphis,” my grandfather said.

  “Nope, not at all,” she said, refusing to budge. She touched his face lovingly, like she was taming a lion or a beast.

  He pursed his lips and turned to look at the car for a moment. “Well,” he paused, “I guess we can drive it.” He was relenting. She had the magic touch. With anyone else, he was an old curmudgeon. With her, he was soft as a cotton-filled pillow.

  “Y’all put your suitcases in the trunk. I’m going inside to get the food I packed for your trip.” She opened the screen door.

  Jesse carried our suitcases to the car and put them in the spacious trunk. I moved toward the front of the car and opened the driver’s side door, touching the soft, beige, leathery seat. The dashboard had tortoise shell wood paneling with a six disc CD player. “This is so nice,” I said, still touching the seat. I watched my grandfather as he ran his large fingers across the leathery passenger seat. He caught me staring at him and stopped.

  “What?” he said.

  I arched my eyebrows. “Nothing.”

  “I bet it eats a lot of gas.”

  “Not as much as your truck,” I replied.

  “Humph,” he grumbled.

  Nana came out of the house carrying an army green cooler in her hand. Jesse ran up the porch steps and took it from her.

  “What do you have in here?” Jesse asked.

  “Enough food to keep them well fed. Y’all better get a move on,” she said, motioning to us. “Finn, thank you for doing this.”

  “It’ll be fun,” I said and she reached over to hug me.

  My grandfather looked at me and said, “Guess you’re driving this thing.”

  “Yep. You drive crazy,” I said. “It’s a great day to drive in a convertible.” For once it wasn’t that cold outside. The sun was shining brightly and the air was pleasantly cool.

  “Charlie, don’t forget to wear your hat. You’ll get as red as a strawberry,” Nana warned.

  He picked up his green John Deere baseball cap from his lap and placed it on his head, covering his stark white hair. “Now I’m covered,” he said and smiled at her. She kissed him on the lips.

  “Call me when you get to a stopping point,” she said to us both.

  “Have fun,” Jesse said to me. He leaned down and kissed me quickly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

  “Me, too. I’ll call you later.” I started the ignition, the even and smooth humming sound of the engine was music to my ears. It was going to be a lot better to drive than Grandpa’s old beat up truck. We waved goodbye to Nana and Jesse and set off on our journey.

  ***

  Highway 40 was one of the worst roads I had ever driven on. It was far worse than driving the crazy winding mountainous roads to my grandparents’ house. There were two lanes: one adjacent to a concrete wall divider with semi-trucks coming at you in the opposite direction going a million miles per hour; the other lane was next to a rocky, mountainous wall and was filled with semi-trucks driving quickly, taking up more than their fair share of the road. I felt suffocated, a little claustrophobic–surrounded by a plethora of trucks. My first instinct was to slow down.

  My grandfather noticed the car moving at a much slower pace and hollered, “Speed up!”

  I guess those were supposed to be his words of encouragement for me. I didn’t feel comforted. I panicked. My palms were clammy, dampening the steering wheel as I gripped even tighter. My heart began to beat quickly. The trucks coming at me from both sides made me feel closed in.

  “Finn, put your foot on the accelerator!” he barked.

  “The trucks are everywhere,” I said, breathing between each word. It was as if I had very little air, like I was drowning in a shallow puddle of water.

  “All the more reason to speed up.”

  I applied slight pressure to the accelerator and tried to ignore the numerous semi-trucks that passed by me on both sides–from the other side of the highway, to the lane next to me. I drove looking forward–creating my own tunnel vision, my body was pressed close to the steering wheel. I counted silently in my head, thinking that if I focused on counting from one to ten, it’d get my mind off of the fact that I could be crushed by a truck at any moment. My grandfather messed with the radio and found an oldies station. He turned the volume up, Elvis’ A Little Less Conversation played.

  “Providence,” he said and chuckled. I didn’t respond, I was too busy looking straight ahead, trying to remain calm. “They’re playing Elvis, think that’s a sign?” He nudged me. I still kept quiet. “Are you gonna sit there like a bump on a log the entire trip? If so, drive me back home now.”

  “Grandpa, I’m trying to drive with all these trucks on the road,” I whined.

  He smacked his lips and said, “If you’d loosen up and quit thinking about it, you wouldn’t be so bothered by them.”

  Then he did something completely out of character–he started singing, very poorly and out of tune. I couldn’t help but laugh at the odd spectacle he was making of himself.

  ***

  We stopped at a rest area outside of Nashville to eat lunch and stretch our legs from the five hours of driving. Grandpa called Nana to let her know we were okay, that we had made it that far without any problems. We were more than halfway to Memphis and the worst part of the interstate was behind us. I lugged the heavy cooler to a nearby picnic table and waited for my grandfather to get off the phone. He came over to me and sat across from me. I handed him a juice box and a sandwich wrapped in parchment paper.

  He unwrapped the sandwich and grinned. “Pimento cheese.”

  “Nothing’s better than Nana’s pimento cheese sandwiches,” I said. I took a huge bite and swallowed it–feeling instantly satisfied. The creamy, delicious contrast of pimentos and cheddar cheese lingered in my mouth.

  We sat there and ate quietly, listening to the sounds of dogs barking, cars passing by, people talking, and children shouting. The sun shined directly on us, which felt good in the cooler, autumn air. There wasn’t a cloud in the blue sky.

  “Looks like we’ll be in Memphis in about four hours.” He pointed to the city of Memphis on the map. I nodded an “okay” to him. He continued, “Your Nana made reservations for us at The Holiday Inn. Do you want me to take over driving?”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll let you know if I get tired,” I replied. He was enjoying the scenery, and I would have felt bad if he lost out on the chance to see everything. This trip was about him. Driving for a few more hours wasn’t going to kill me.

  He pushed his cap further down on his head and sipped on the juice box straw. “I’ve wanted to go to Graceland for a long time.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been an Elvis fan since I was a teenager.”

  “Why didn’t you and Nana ever go?”

  He lea
ned back, folded his arms and inhaled a long, deep breath. “Well, life got in the way.” He looked at me and read my confused expression. “What I mean is, with everything that happened with your dad and then running the diner, there was never time.”

  “I’m glad you finally have the time,” I said earnestly. My life wasn’t the only one impacted by my dad’s illness. Theirs was affected in more ways than I’ll ever know. They had to sacrifice so much.

  “I am, too. Lilly never had an interest in going... she’s a Beetles fan.” He made a disgusted face and then laughed. “Don’t know why. She’s always walked to her own beat, though. That was one of the first things I decided I liked about her.”

  “I bet she was beautiful. She still is.”

  “Not just beautiful, but different. I dated other girls, but she was the only one who made me want to be a better person. She challenged me. That’s what love is. If you find a mate who makes you a better version of yourself, then you’ve got yourself a keeper.” He took another sip on his straw, slurping the last of the juice. He shook the juice box, realizing it was empty, and pulled another one out of the cooler. “Course you don’t want to hear about love from an old coot like me.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “In that case, let me tell you about my first date with your Nana,” he began.

  Ten minutes later, I had learned about their disastrous first date. How Nana had told him at the end of their date that she hated him and to get lost. How he had sworn he’d never take her out again, that she was more trouble than necessary. It definitely was not love at first sight. He said that they kept bumping into each other in town and one thing led to another, they went on another date and from there a romance had blossomed.