by Foster, Lily
She smiled and nodded at me as she waited for her call to connect. As I made my way downstairs to the laundry room, I felt a sense of panic gripping me. The panic was fleeting, though, and soon replaced by anticipation. We were stuck here together, me and Carolyn. Snowed in, just the two of us.
This should be interesting.
“Hey, you should still be by the fire. What are you doing?”
Carolyn was crouched by the open front door, reaching over and sliding in the giant tray that we’d left on the porch. “I’m not letting some raccoons get at this. I spent most of yesterday morning slaving over a hot stove.”
She lifted the tray off the floor once she’d gotten it inside. As she stood, the afghan slid off one shoulder. “Whoops! Grab this for me Jeremy,” she said, gesturing to the tray. She readjusted the small blanket, pulling it higher, so now it revealed every inch of her long legs, the skin still pink from the cold. She looked up at me and I realized I was standing there holding the tray while, like an asshole, ogling her legs. She cleared her throat. “You wanna stick that in the fridge? Um…I’m going to hop in the shower quick and then change into some dry clothes, okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, recovering. “Take the first room off the hallway. It has a bathroom. I’ll run you a bath if you want.” I’ll run you a bath? Holy shit, Rivers, you sound like a damn pervert.
“Um…I’m good with a shower. But thanks,” she added awkwardly.
Carolyn wet. Carolyn naked and wet. This was going to be torture. No, asshole, it’s going to be good. You’re going to make this a good weekend for her. Get your shit together and stop acting like a horny teenager.
“Wow, this is huge, Jeremy. I hope you’re not giving up your room for me,” she called out from the bedroom.
“Nah, no assigned rooms,” I answered as I came in with her bags. “You like it, though? I did decorate it myself.”
“It’s very you. It’s got the whole brawny, masculine, log cabin vibe going on. It’s homey. I love it,” she replied, smiling.
“Whatcha got in here? This knapsack is heavy.”
“Well, us girls planned out a dinner. I was bringing the main dish and the wine, so those are the wine bottles that are so heavy. But we’ll be doing without desert—that was Taylor’s contribution—and without Tori’s amazing salad and…oh, crud, she was bringing the pasta. Hope you don’t like spaghetti with your meatballs.”
“I’ve got spaghetti, Harris. Are you forgetting I keep a well-stocked kitchen? And did I just hear you say that you cooked meatballs? Since when do you cook?”
“Since I spent two years practically housebound.” She laughed and then looked up to me, cocking her head apologetically. “I spent a lot of time learning to bake with my mom and cooking with my dad…it was easier for me to talk and connect through cooking.” Upbeat again, she added, “My meatballs rock, by the way. There’s freshly ground veal in them, pecorino cheese and I make my own breadcrumbs. Then there’s my secret ingredient.”
“Secret ingredient? What’s that?”
“Nope. I’ll take it to the grave, Rivers.”
“You think I won’t be able to taste it? I’m like a meatball aficionado.”
“We’ll see,” she teased as she pranced her fine self into the bathroom, shutting the door in my face with a smile.
“What are you doing?”
Damn, caught red handed. “Nuttin’,” I attempted to mumble around the full meatball in my mouth.
“Well?”
I shook my head as I chewed. “I don’t know. The first one I was thinking that you mixed pork, veal and beef, but that’s no secret. Then I was thinking red pepper flakes or sardine paste? Cause it’s got a nice tang to it. Then—”
Eyes wide, she pretended she was angry, but I saw that smile hidden beneath. “How many have you eaten?”
“I don’t know…four?”
“They’re cold, Jeremy!”
Damn, she was cute with that scrunched up expression, acting like she was mad at me when we both knew she wasn’t. “That’s the test of a good meatball. They have to taste good cold. These,” I said, tipping the fifth meatball I’d just grabbed from the tray into my mouth, “are awesome.”
“Thanks,” she said, blushing with pride. “But put them away. Who knows, we might be snowed in for a week and that’s all we’ll have to live on.”
“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” I couldn’t help saying that. Fact was, I would give my right arm to be cooped up with her for the next…well, forever.
She smiled back at me shyly. “So, the slopes are really closed?”
“Probably just for today. Tomorrow we’ll be able to get out there.”
“I have to warn you, I haven’t skied in four years.”
“Have you ever snowboarded?”
“No. Tommy loves it but I nearly got killed by an out of control boarder careening down the mountain when I was in eighth grade. I basically looked down my nose at it ever since then. Anyway, it looks like it’s so much harder than skiing.”
“Not harder…just different. C’mon, try something new. I’ll teach you.”
“All right. You asked for it.”
Yes I did. I took her in as she stood not two feet in front of me. Her hair was damp, drying in waves, her cheeks were flushed, lips were sweet and full. She was dressed in a pair of leggings and a tank top, with a men’s flannel shirt over it, sleeves rolled up. Her feet were bare. Carolyn had never needed anything fancy or expensive to make her desirable. Today was no exception. She looked hot as hell.
She fingered the collar of the shirt. “Sorry. Do you mind?”
Shit, I was caught staring again. “Sorry.”
“No,” she said, confused. “Do you mind that I grabbed this out of the closet?”
“That’s mine?” I asked as I felt redness creep up my neck. My shirt…on her…touching her skin. Yes, something was clearly wrong with me. I turned away as I reassured her, “No, help yourself to anything you want.”
“Ok, thanks.” She went back into the room and came out balancing three wine bottles in her arms. “A housewarming present,” she said as she lined them up on the counter and then went back in for something else. She then set each bottle into an opening on a rustic wine rack. It looked like it was carved out of a tree trunk. “It kind of matches the décor, right?”
“It’s perfect.” Everything you do is perfect. “You didn’t have to get me a gift.”
“I wanted to.”
“Jeez, you’re like Mary Poppins. What else you got tucked into that bag?”
She waggled her eyebrows. “You’ll have to wait and see, now won’t cha?”
This day, this so called boring day, stuck inside while the snow continued falling…it was ranking right up there with my all-time best ever days.
Jeremy and I spent the morning and afternoon putting up window blinds in the spare guest bedrooms and made up those beds with the sheet sets and comforters that were still sitting in shopping bags in the storage room.
He’d try to get me to stop every twenty minutes or so, saying he didn’t want me doing work, but I was enjoying myself. Being in close proximity to Jeremy was making my body hum, and if I got to ogle that strip of skin on his torso every time his shirt rode up? Well, that was just a bonus.
When I broke out the wood polish and started dusting the furniture in those rooms, Jeremy grabbed me around the waist and made a game out of wrestling the can and the rag out of my hands. “No. You’re off duty, Harris. Who knew you were such a clean freak?”
The feeling of his hands wrapped around my waist? It felt so good that it almost brought me to tears.
I’d missed touching. I’d missed having a boy touch me…kiss me. And Jeremy was no longer that boy. He was even bigger and more manly then I’d thought of him back then. His unshaven face, his broad shoulders and the square, defined set of his jaw…he was a man. The man I wanted touching me.
I swore as he set me back down on the ground that he took me in—leaned in for
just a moment and breathed in the scent of my skin. Maybe I was imagining it. I hoped not.
He broke the moment, stepping back and smiling as he held my shoulders. “I owe you lunch. Prop your feet up in front of the fire and I’ll whip us up something.”
I took in my surroundings as I snuggled into the corner of the soft leather couch. The large picture windows overlooked an endless forest of fir trees, the branches laden with the new fallen snow. “It’s really beautiful here, Jeremy.”
He walked in with two steaming bowls of something that smelled really good. “I know. It’s peaceful, right?”
I think I actually moaned when I got a taste of his broccoli cheddar soup. “You made this?”
He nodded smugly as he slurped a big spoonful. “Glad you like it.”
We sat together in companionable silence for the next few minutes, enjoying our soup. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, facing me. Our toes grazed one another’s once, twice, and then Jeremy took his two giant feet and plopped them entirely over mine. “Hey!” I said, acting affronted when really, I loved the feeling of his feet on mine, of any physical contact from him I could get.
“Hey, yourself,” he countered, smiling.
I was taken back to an afternoon so long ago, when I’d sat like this with him, spilling my painful secrets. So relieved to be able to say it all out loud, knowing that with him I would be all right. Jeremy had been so good to me that day. He made me feel protected and safe. He’d always done that.
“Hey where’d you go?”
I shrugged, trying to recapture my smile. “I was remembering what it was like, sitting like this and studying at your place.” I went for broke. “I was thinking about that day I told you everything…about Henley.” He nodded silently. “You were so good to me, Jeremy.”
“I wanted to find him, too, and kill him…after it all happened.”
“Henley?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened with Chase?”
“He got what he deserved.”
“I figured that was you…the carjacking.”
Jeremy nodded solemnly, as he scooped the last spoonful of soup into his mouth. “I haven’t seen him since that night. Taylor told me he wound up going to some school on the west coast.”
“I heard that, too. Guys like Chase always seem to land on their feet, you know? I predict he’ll be a senator—”
“Or one of those preachers that collects bazillions from his flock, preaching piety while he’s knee deep in dirt.”
My voice broke as I said, “That’s another one of those things I’d like to do over. That first day he threatened me, I should’ve just called his bluff, told him to tell everyone for all I cared.” I had to look away then as the memories flooded back. “I also wish I would have told my parents what happened that summer at camp. Reported Henley. I still feel guilty about that, you know? He went back to camp that next year…did one more summer. Did he find some other girl and ruin her innocence?”
“I’d bet money on it, Carolyn. But that’s not your fault and you know it.”
I shrugged. “I just wonder how different life would have been had I spoken up. What was I thinking? How could I have not trusted my parents? They would have been in my corner. I let myself suffer all that time. I let what he did…change me.”
He picked my feet up and put them on his lap, squeezing and rubbing them gently, like he did that day.
“No do-overs, right?” I said, trying to smile. “I know it’s not healthy to keep looking back.”
“There’s a whole lot I regret, too. I knew something was off with you that last week…especially those few days leading right up to it. I never pressed you about it. If I had, maybe you would have told me what was going on.”
“Do you ever think about why Drew did it?”
“Back then I wondered all the fucking time.”
“I worry that he did it after he saw Chase’s video. I think he believed it all and he was so disgusted that I’d lied to him and that…that he’d dated someone like me.”
“No way. It wasn’t like that. Drew loved you, Carolyn. I think he was just hurting…he was hurting for you just like I was. Bottom line is that he was sad, drunk and had ten different guns in his house to choose from. Not a good combination.”
“It’ll be four years this March.”
“Yeah.” After a moment he added, “I’ve been to the memorial service each year. It’s the same people, although the crowd last year was a little light in comparison to years past.”
“I still wouldn’t be welcome there. I do my own sort of memorial a few days after the date. It feels kind of crappy, though, visiting their graves like a thief in the night, still praying that no one spots me out there.”
“No one with half a brain ever blamed you, and I’ll be honest, I still feel so angry—with you and with everyone else—thinking about you going through all that shit alone.” Jeremy’s hands were balled into fists now, his irritation palpable. “If there’s one thing I could go back and fix, it would be that instead of standing outside your house every day like a pathetic chump, I would have pushed past your parents and made you talk to me.”
I leaned up and took one of his hands. “I wish I would have opened the door one of those nights. You were like clockwork—five o’clock on the dot. I needed you. I wish I would have let you in. I’m sorry.”
“I understand now, Carolyn, I really do. And what’s done is done. We can only make sure we don’t repeat the same mistakes, right?”
She reached for a strand of hair, twisting it around her finger. “Right.”
We needed a break from the heavy. “You hungry?”
“Nope.”
“Thirsty?”
“Nope.”
“Tired.”
She laughed. “Nope.”
“All right, what do people do when they’re snowed in, stranded…adrift from civilization?”
“We’re not exactly roughing it, chief. We’ve got heat, hot water, cable…”
“Wanna watch a movie?”
She shrugged. “Not really. Got any games?”
“I actually do.” I opened the cabinet underneath the television console. “Let’s see. We’ve got Monopoly, chess, Yahtzee and Scrabble.” I looked back to her smirking. “My dad and I play Scrabble all the time. Two dyslexics squaring off…it’s pretty comical.”
“I didn’t know your dad has a reading disability. I mean, it makes sense. It often runs in families.”
“Yeah. He didn’t get himself help until after he saw how much the teachers at Briarwood helped me. It was kinda weird, seeing my dad with his tutor, working at our kitchen table. But I was so proud of him, you know?”
Carolyn swallowed, emotion taking over her features. “I think that’s great. It takes a lot of courage to get help when you’re an adult.” She shook it off then and leveled me with a challenging glare. “I’m kind of a Scrabble ninja. Think you can take me?”
Oh, I thought, I can take you in so many ways, missy. Being this close to her was making my body tense with longing. I schooled my expression before turning back to her. “Game on, sweetheart.”
I poured us a small glass of wine and joined her in front of the fire where she was setting up the game. “Maybe we’ll have dinner around seven?”
“Sounds good.” Her eyes widened then. “I almost forgot!” She jumped up and made her way back to the bedroom, returning with two loaves of semolina bread tucked under her arm.
She stopped on her way to the kitchen at the sound of my voice. “Don’t even tell me you just pulled those out of your bag, too.”
She was practically doubled over laughing. “I know, I’m like a freaking magician! You’ll be glad I hauled these, though. La Viola gets their bread from some bakery in the Bronx that’s been around for nearly a century. It’s so good.” She paused then, her smile falling. “Oh, but you tried it the other night, right?”
“No, I didn’t. That grouper looked great, too, bu
t I didn’t have much of an appetite.”
“Gotcha.” She nodded in understanding and then continued on into the kitchen. Walking back out, she teased, “You didn’t peak in the bag when you picked your letters, did you?”
“C’mon, I don’t get any accommodations on account of my disability?”
“Screw that, Rivers.”
We each picked one letter. I drew an E, she drew the Z.
“You get to go first. That’s a slight advantage.”
“Not when you’re pretty much stuck with all vowels.” I grumbled as I put down EAT as my first word. “Holy shit, I’m gonna get creamed. What is that, six points?”
“Yep. Thank goodness you snagged the double word score.” She hesitated a minute and then looked up at me with a guilty expression.
“What is it?”
“I’m not trying to be obnoxious, really,” she said, breaking into laughter as she took all of her seven letters and laid them down, piggy backing off the letter T in EAT to spell out QUIXOTIC.
“Holy shit! Did you just get a double word score, too? That’s just not right.”
She could barely get the words out she was laughing so hard. “No! Just a double letter on the Q and…the O and the I. Total score,” she emulated a drumroll, “eighty-eight points.” She cringed as she announced it.
“No feeling bad for the reading disabled kid allowed,” I joked. “Shit. I’m gonna go down like the Titanic. I forgot you get that fifty point bonus for using all seven letters.”
I built off of her Q and laid down the word QUONDAM. “Thirty-eight points.” I looked at her, smug. “I’ll catch up.”
“What the hell is that? Is that even a real word?”
“Do I smell a challenge, Harris?”
She backed down. “No. I’d lose. You always had a great vocabulary. So what does it mean?”
“From long ago…like a former time.”
“Hmph.” She nodded as she went about rearranging her letters.
“Crazy, right? I could tell you what any word means but for the longest time, I couldn’t recognize the word…read it.”
“Is it better? I mean the other night…at the restaurant.”
I smiled, warming to the memory of how she looked at me tenderly when she made that save. “Yeah, I almost tanked on one of those foodie words…thanks. I think that was nerves more than anything.”
