by L. B. Dunbar
“Not anymore, Nana.”
I stood to search through Nana’s desk drawer. When I opened the drawer of the cabinet in the dining room, I found two concert tickets to Interlake, a private music school training students for professional musical careers. The performance was in a few nights, and I hadn’t been to Interlake in years. I knew Nana liked to support the arts and received the annual calendar of events from the school for live concerts and special performances. She must have bought the summer-season pass, because she had four other unused tickets from past shows in the drawer. For some reason, I immediately thought of taking Jess, then laughed thinking he would never go to something formal like this: A Night of Frank Sinatra. Never.
“Nana, why don’t you go with me?” I asked.
When accepting an invitation to a party, always bring a gift as a sign of appreciation for the host or hostess.
“Matters on Manners,” 1973
I SAT IN the back enclosed, screened porch after Nana went to bed that night. The window latches allowed the windows to open only a few inches high, and I felt relieved, but not safe enough to leave Nana alone and attend the party for Jess. Not to mention, arriving alone to a party where I would not really know anyone didn’t sound appealing. It wasn’t like Jess asked me to go to the party with him. He just invited me to attend.
I thought about the dark-haired woman from the bar the first night I’d gone into town. No one ever mentioned a girlfriend for Jess, and he never mentioned one either, but then again, it’s not like it came up in conversation. It didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t have someone special in his life. A man needs to be satisfied, my last boyfriend had told me after he cheated on me with numerous women. Well, so does a woman, I thought as I took a large sip of the wine I’d poured myself. Sitting in the low light of the porch, I toasted the air. Happy Birthday, Jess, I thought and took another sip.
Jess Carter was a good-looking man in a dangerous, rugged sort of way. The long sandy hair with the ponytail and bandana really made him different from people I would normally associate with in Chicago. On the other hand, the chiseled face and intense eyes were striking against his tan skin. His overall appearance made me think Hollywood material. I recalled what George had said the night outside the bar. “No one denies Jess Carter.” I pondered the reputation Jess must have had in high school – before he left town. I thought about my grandmother’s story. Jess probably had plans for his future and dreams of a different life at one time. Big dreams and good looks, or good looks and big dreams? Nana’s old friend Sarah had to have been like Debbie, Jess’ ex-wife. Did Debbie ever care about Jess’ dreams? I wondered what those dreams might have been and if Jess ever thought of them now.
Lost in my thoughts, I heard a noise on the gravel driveway. I assumed it must be an animal scavenging through the night, so I jumped when I saw the outline of a man standing outside the screen. I stood up quickly ready to defend myself.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said a familiar voice, slightly slurred.
“Jess?” I approached the screen door and noticed a handful of rocks in his hand.
“You planning on breaking and entering or something?” I spoke in a hushed whisper as I unlatched the wooden door.
“No, I was going to throw them at your bedroom window.” He let the pebbles fall to the ground and I smiled.
“You didn’t come to my party, so I brought the party to you.”
I laughed softly.
“Are you alone?” I looked around the dark yard behind him.
“Yes,” Jess said, sounding more serious. “Very alone,” he whispered under his breath.
“Come in.”
The soft light on the side table only highlighted the end of the outdoor loveseat I had been sitting on, and I sat back down in the circle of light before looking up at Jess, who still stood.
“I brought you a piece of cake. And a present.” He held up the cake on a plate wrapped in plastic and a brown paper bag.
I giggled. “It’s your birthday. I should give you a present.”
“Like what?” he said slyly, and those blue eyes danced with a merriment I’d yet to see from him.
I only smiled in reply. He handed me the brown paper bag, which held a bottle of wine.
“Remember? You wanted some at the Mueller’s and we all looked at you like you were crazy.”
“I’m so thrilled you remember my shortcomings.”
“I had it at the party for you, but you didn’t show.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Sit down.” I commanded, a little disgusted with my midnight company. I put the cake and the brown-bagged wine on the glass table before me. When Jess sat next to me, I could feel warmth coming off his body, which was unexpectedly close to my own.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you. You didn’t come to my party.”
“No, really, Jess?” I cut him off with my serious tone. He sighed deeply and rubbed a hand down his face.
“You were so sad this morning. I couldn’t get you out of my head all day. But I need you out of my head, Emily. Can you please get out?”
I remained silent.
“You need help here,” he added.
“I’m fine.”
“Really? You don’t seem fine.”
“I just don’t know what to do, but it will come to me.”
“Let someone help.”
“Who? I’m alone here, but I’m used to being alone. It’s fine.”
“Don’t you want to be better than fine?” He threw my words in a question at me. Then he continued. “You’ve helped me. Let me help you.”
I considered how sweet he sounded. And how drunk.
“How? You have family and friends here. You have lots of help. You don’t need me.”
“Maybe I do,” he said softly to the floral seat cushion as he ran a hand slowly up and down the faded fabric.
I had to grip the armrest to prevent my hand from reaching out to his. I couldn’t decide if I found his movement annoying and needed to stop it or if I found the motion seductive and wanted to touch him. We had been physically close before at the library, but he was never as relaxed as he was now.
“Jess, tell me something about you. Do you have any dreams?”
“Nightly,” he smiled shyly.
“No, I mean dreams as in plans. More than here and now.”
“This is too deep for me tonight.” He leaned forward to stand, struggling but making it to a half-upright position before I put my hand on his forearm to stop him, not able to help myself.
“Don’t leave me, yet.”
He sat back down with a thud.
“Big dreams?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. His jaw clenched and he looked at me, aware that I’d noticed the tense movement in his face. His head lounged on the back of the loveseat and he blinked up at the ceiling fan that rotated slowly in the still night air.
“I always thought I wanted to be an engineer. Electrical engineer. I’m good with my hands, hence the handyman jobs. And I love to tinker with things. Take them apart, see how they work, and put them back together.”
“Did you just say ‘hence’?” I laughed.
“Yes, us small town boys know us some big words too,” Jess mocked with his Southern drawl imitation.
“Anyway, I’ve been home over a year and I’m not so sure electrical engineering would have been the right move for me after all. I love Sound Systems and doing the repair work. As for the handy work, I make my own hours and everyone needs home improvement help, especially the summer-folk and the rentals. I make decent money and I have Katie to think about. Two jobs doesn’t sound ideal, but it keeps me busy. Keeps me from thinking too deeply.” He smiled when he rolled his head to look at me. I noticed a hidden dimple in his relaxed state.
I stayed silent a moment longer and I could see he was debating whether to keep talking or not. He rolled his head back to focu
s on the ceiling fan.
“When Debbie left, I was angry at her for squashing my scholarship and ruining my potential career. I hate to leave things unfinished, but sometimes I think she did me a favor. I like it here. This is my home. It’s pretty in the summer and, well, pretty damn cold in the winter, but I’m still my own person.”
I thought about his words. Still my own person.
“What about you?” he interrupted my silence.
“Oh, I always wanted to write The Great American Novel. One day a friend asked me why it had to be great and told me to just write, but I guess I sort-of fell into the publishing business with the magazine and it pays the bills. I work with really nice people and I have some flexibility, which is helpful considering Nana right now, but I’m not sure corporate America, nine-to-five, is for me.”
“You sound like you were always sure of yourself.”
“Sometimes yes. Sometimes no. Sometimes I see the path clearly. And other times, I’m scared because I know I’m off course, like now with Nana.”
“I know what you mean,” Jess mumbled.
We sat with our own thoughts for a moment. The night was quiet with the soft whirl of the fan, the music of crickets chirping, and the sound of cicadas singing. A frog croaked and a car drove down the street out front.
“I feel like I’m in high school,” Jess mumble.
“You do? Why?” I laughed.
“I feel like I’m on a date and I don’t know what to say.”
“I thought you only dated Debbie.”
“I didn’t and I don’t want to talk about Debbie right now if you don’t mind.”
“Okay.” I put my hands up to surrender.
“Where were you when I was in high school?” Jess questioned me with a lopsided smile on his lips and that dimple peeked out further.
“Oh, I was too good for you, remember? Riding around with my bikini top,” I said snottily, shaking my chest a little foolishly. Thank goodness he wasn’t looking directly at me.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You did and it’s okay.”
“So when are you going home?” He blurted out.
“Wow, don’t hold off on the small stuff.”
“I mean it. When are you leaving?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to go?”
“I don’t know,” Jess said softly and looked out the darkened screen window.
I didn’t know how to respond or what to think, but I know I didn’t like where this conversation was potentially headed.
“I don’t want to talk about this right now, either,” he added as he leaned his head back against the cushions again. I looked at Jess’ jaw muscle move back and forth.
“So what was all that kissing a boy about with Katie this morning?” He asked with a sheepish smile as his eye lids drifted shut for a moment.
“You know in The Little Mermaid the way to break the spell was for the boy to fall in love with the silent girl and kiss her. Of course, Katie is way too young for those kinds of kisses.”
“Are you?” His eyelids sprang open, and he turned the full force of his blue gaze on me. I felt a shiver run up my body, starting in places that hadn’t felt anything in a long time. I breathed deep, letting the sensation spread within me.
“No,” I answered so low I wasn’t sure the word came out my mouth. Jess leaned slowly toward me. Although he was the one that had been drinking, he smelled intoxicating to me; musky and manly. I inhaled softly as he put his right hand lightly on my cheek and slid it down to my neck. I swallowed as he pulled me closer, gently tugging me towards him. He lingered. His face was so close to mine, and I could feel him breathe, but he wasn’t close enough and I swallowed again with anticipation. He continued to hold my neck and rub his thumb in a slow torturous circle over my pulse. I knew he could feel my heart racing through that vein. He then traced up my neck with that thumb before he slid his fingers gently under my jaw. He eventually stilled his fingers under my chin.
He leaned further forward and I could feel his breath brush my lips. I stayed perfectly still, minus the beating of my heart. Every inch of my body was vibrating with desire. My hands gripped the seat cushion as I tried to hold myself back. Waiting. Wanting. My legs moved apart slightly in an invitation for him to come closer. My mouth watered with desire for his kiss…a kiss that never came.
Jess sat back abruptly and I felt him looking at me as I held my eyes closed for a moment longer. When I opened them, I saw a spark I’d never seen before in his denim blue eyes.
“I should go,” he whispered.
“Why?” I choked.
“Because I don’t think I could stop myself if I stayed.”
I was so disappointed that tears sprang to my eyes after Jess slowly stood from the loveseat and walked out the screen door with one final look in my direction. I would not push him if he didn’t want me. Although his words implied otherwise, his actions were clear. Despite what Rosie said, I didn’t want to just get laid by Jess Carter. I knew I wanted more from him. When Jess could no longer be seen in the backyard, a tear of frustration rolled down my cheek. My agitation didn’t allow me to recognize the sound of a kick on stone foundation or a bang on the old wood siding.
Music has become one of America’s most famous past times and is an integral part of American culture. Music is a pleasure for the soul and nothing sends the body into a tingle better than entertainment through big bands. Remember to keep good posture, arms locked, eye contact, and an appropriate distance from any dancing partner.
“Matters of Manners,” 1976
I DIDN’T SEE Jess for two days after the lost birthday kiss. That was how I referred to the night in my thoughts. Maybe he really didn’t want me? Maybe he did? Maybe he was leading me on? Maybe he was holding back? He loves me. He loves me not, I thought as I watered Nana’s daisies. I hated that I thought about him so much. He wanted me out of his head. Well, I was beginning to feel the same way. Go away, Jess Carter, I told myself.
Tonight was the concert that Nana intended for me to attend with “a special someone.” If Nana only knew, I snorted, but she was excited to get out of the house anyway. Nana loved music and missed her radio, which was why she pushed me to have it repaired. I thought of Nana and how quiet her home must be without any sound. No partner to talk with in the evening and no child noises to fill the background. The same must be true for Jess. Without the words and laughter of his little girl, his world was quiet as well. Hence, I laughed at the word, the need to repair broken sound machines. Music could fill the void. Fixing the machines was an attempt to make something broken unbroken, unlike his ability to mend his silent daughter.
“That’s a bit revealing, dear.” Nana scowled, criticizing my dress as she entered my room. I had on a chocolate brown, low cut, halter-style dress and wedge heels. I figured I was probably overdressed for the occasion, and when we arrived at Interlake’s amphitheater, I discovered I was correct. Most attendees were dressed in casual pants and polo style shirts. Several women wore pants as well. Nana was appalled, as I knew she would be, but she was also gracious enough to accept that people who behaved without class had never been taught how to have it. My attire would not have pleased Nana unless I had on a dress tied up to the neck with pearls. Unbeknown to Nana, casual was in and formal out, which she would have criticized as a shame. She was too set in her ways, but I wasn’t about to change her.
I helped her maneuver down the sloping aisle. I was grateful the seats were close to the end of the row in case we needed to make an early exit for Nana. As I found our assigned seats, Nana recognized someone a few rows in front of us and wanted to step down to say hello.
“Good evening, Mary.”
“Oh, hello Mrs. Parrish. How are you?”
“Fine, fine, dear. I don’t know if you’ve met my granddaughter, Emily Post?”
“No, but I am so glad to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you lately.”
I smiled in return and shook t
he woman’s outstretched hand. I assisted Nana to sit with Mary for a moment and the two ladies continued to talk as I stood admiring the view.
Interlake was built in a beautiful setting. An outdoor amphitheater covered with a white canvas tarp set the stage against a rich, green, wilderness backdrop. It was lovelier than a few of the amphitheaters around Chicago. Hard lines of steel and black sound speakers surrounded those venues. Here, little white lights gave the setting an intimate and enchanting appearance. Young musicians were scrambling across the center stage to adjust music stands and seats as the crowd slowly filled in the audience.
“Excuse me.” A voice behind me implied that someone needed to get down the row where I stood, and I stepped back to come face to face with Jess.
“Emily?”
“Jess?” My voice squeaked with unknown excitement.
The surprise on both our faces was apparent, but more importantly, he looked amazing. He had poster worthy good looks. Without the ponytail, Jess’ hair lay down like a male model’s. It was chin length and the sandy color stood out more radiant in the dimming night. He had on a pale blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a blue-green striped tie with khaki pants. He looked like the typical all American college boy, only years older and sexy hot.
“Wow. You look…beautiful,” he said to me and I choked on a nervous laugh.
“So do you,” I whispered as I looked down to smooth my dress. I absentmindedly touched my hair, which I had twisted up and secured with old fashioned hair combs of Nana’s.
Jess tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear.
“Did you meet my mother, Mary Carter?”
“Yes.” I smiled at Mrs. Carter, slightly embarrassed now that I knew who she was. I knew the two older women were closely watching the awkward, stiff conversation between us.
“So what brings you here?” I asked. My surprise at his attendance at a classic concert might have hurt his feelings, as if I was implying this place was too high class for him.
Jess held his head up. “It’s a birthday present from my mother.”
