by L. B. Dunbar
“Goodnight, George.” I was shivering from nerves at this point and I glared at him to leave.
“Fine,” George said as he slammed the chair out of his way.
Once George was gone, I shakily sat back down. Tom released Jess, knowing I’d tried to deal with George on my own terms. Jess drank the whole beer in front of him in one swallow before slamming the plastic cup on the table. A single spray of beer splashed out.
“Well, it’s a party now,” Tom clapped his hands to break the silent tension. People started to talk and laugh again around the table. The music continued to play through this interruption in an attempt to keep the crowd’s attention away from the back of the tent. I didn’t say anything and my hands still trembled as I reached for the beer in front of me to take another sip. The expression on Jess’ face was calming down and someone said something behind him that forced his lopsided smile. Another slow song began to play and Jess asked me to dance.
“Yes,” I said breathily.
We walked to the dance floor on opposite sides of the tables, and as we approached the end of the aisles, it was me who reached out my hand for Jess to take. He was formal in his dance position at first, keeping space between our bodies as we began to move slowly with the rhythm of the music. I waited patiently for Jess to speak because I knew he could be stubborn and it would take a few moments. He took a deep breath.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go with him.”
“Why would you say that?” I asked softly, despite my own anger at his statement.
“Better offer.”
“Then what?”
Jess stared at me. I decided to lighten the conversation.
“You offering me something?”
“No.” My shoulders sagged a little at his response.
“Then I guess there is nothing to worry about,” I bit back my answer, but smiled crookedly with my lips clenched closed.
Jess laughed. Without thinking he slipped his hand down my back, pulled me closer, and leaned his forehead against mine.
“I can’t really blame him for trying. The way you’re dressed is sinful.”
I looked down at my dress and turned away in embarrassment. Jess brought his hand to my chin, keeping his fingers intertwined with mine. He forced me to look back at him.
“I can’t go with you, Emily,” Jess said softly. “I would follow you, but I just can’t.”
I looked at him in surprise. “I don’t expect you to go anywhere, Jess. This is your home. Your family is here. With Katie.”
“Will you think of us?” The way Jess asked made me want to cry.
“Jess, please. Not tonight. Please.”
“Will you spend tomorrow with me and Katie, just the three of us all day? I have to be in the parade with Tom in the morning, but after that, the day is ours.”
“Sounds…great, Jess. I would like that.”
He still held my hand and placed it on his chest, covering mine with his own hand over his heart. He danced us out of the tent even though the music changed to a faster tempo. The sky was black, but the stars shone brightly. The moon was full, casting a warm glow across the lake, and we continued to dance onto the path that runs along the edge of the sandy beach. All that mattered was the dark night covering us, and the man in my arms. I didn’t want the moment to end.
JESS WALKED ME home, holding my hand like he did the other night. He was humming the Irish band’s song about waiting and I listened quietly. I walked him around to the back of the house and leaned my back against the porch door.
“I have to stay with you. Nurse’s orders. Still need to make sure you wake up during the night.”
“Have to? Orders? Lots of good that did me earlier when you fell asleep,” I laughed. “I think I can take care of myself, thank you,” I joked as I reached for the door handle, but Jess pinned me against the door.
“You need me here, tonight.”
“Oh, I got needs,” I mumbled.
“I remember your needs,” Jess raised his eyebrow. It was dark, but I could see the lopsided smile. “What kind of needs do you have now?” he asked in his dangerous tone.
“Just…now.”
He kissed me fiercely, covering me everywhere. Lips on mine, tongue in my mouth. Hands in my hair, removing the ponytail and then skimming up and down my back. He reached for the hem of my skirt and slowly inched it up.
“Now?” He mumbled against my lips.
“Now,” I breathily whispered as I climbed up his body, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He reached above me to the top of the porch door and produced a key.
“So that’s how you do the breaking and entering, huh?”
He still held me wrapped around him as he opened the door and stumbled into the screened-in porch. He not so delicately dropped me on the porch loveseat and knelt between my legs. He inched the skirt of my dress up and up. My breath was catching with each gentle glide of the material. He slid both hands up the inside of my thighs, but didn’t touch my center.
“Now,” he said softly, his gaze following his hands as they skimmed over my legs.
“Jess.” My voice was rasping and I felt wanton. I needed him. I wanted him. Whatever I could have, whatever he would give.
“Emily,” he whispered. “Stop me.” He stared at his hands between my legs. Something was shutting down in him.
“Why, Jess?”
“Just stop me.” He was looking at his hands as they rubbed up and down my bare thighs. I wanted him to touch me, but his voice was desperate. I placed my hands over his on my legs.
“Stop.”
He leaned over and kissed me gently on the shoulder, up my neck, across my jaw, and paused before he reached my lips. His mouth left a flaming trail that was hard to ignore, but I placed my hands on either side of his face.
“Are you leaving?”
“Only if you ask me to.”
“Please stay?”
While it seems rare that anyone would meet a queen in everyday life, if the occasion did arise there is a proper way to greet her. Bowing your head allows her royal head to be higher than your own, emphasizing that she holds all the power.
“Matters of Manners,” 1972
A SMALL TOWN celebration is no small affair. It symbolizes the epitome of America. Parades honor military men and women, veterans of foreign wars, both those who served in the past and those who serve currently. Additional participants include the local marching band, high school football teams, and elementary school pride. Those who heavily support the community advertise their services with floats, which proudly display their vital part of the town. In this small town, antique tractors are included in the line of vehicles as this area is the cherry capital of the United States. There are old men in go-karts, a rousing march of chair dancers, and candy galore thrown to the crowd. Local police and fire people are honored, and every small town has its own princesses.
Small town pageantry is as popular as Miss America used to be. In Elk Rapids, the princess and her court include a series of young girls ranging from teenage to toddler. I could only imagine what the competition included: connections to community, achievements in academics, performance in talent, and beauty. The competition couldn’t be overly competitive due to the limited number of eligible girls in a small town, but each surrounding town has a princess with her court as well, including Miss Charlevoix and the Cherry Queen from Traverse City. Young ladies dressed in taffeta and tiaras represent the royalty of the area.
Katie Carter was no exception. In her plastic silver tiara, she rode with her father as part of the local businesses representative of the surrounding town. Tom and Jess were advertising Sound Systems with the blaring music of a popular hip-hop song. As Tom’s dune buggy passed with a large sign propped against the back roll bar, I could see Jess scanning the crowd. Katie sat behind him with her tiara on, waving shyly to those she recognized in the gathered crowd. It was Katie who spotted me and began to wave with enthusiasm. She leane
d forward to tap her father’s shoulder and pointed in my direction. Jess didn’t return my wave, but his lopsided smile showed his acknowledgement. I was concerned he had thought too much about last night and changed his mind about spending the day together, when I realized it would be one of our last.
I knew that I had thought too much about the night before as well. Being close to Jess always kindled a fire in me. I wanted to be close to him, but I could feel him still hesitating to be close to me, and I didn’t know if it was the fact that I would eventually leave. We were too old for a summer romance. The wonderful kind where you fall passionately in love with someone who is so much your opposite yet you still show your true self, knowing the relationship will end when the fall begins. I had plenty of summer love experiences, especially in college, and although I treasured those relationships for the fun and folly, I knew they were never reality. Those relationships were make-believe.
With Jess and Katie, the time was coming to a close and a summer fling was not what either of them needed. From the question game Jess and I played at Tom’s party, I learned plenty about Jess and his newfound freedom after his wife left. He was quite the playboy, which he admitted honestly, but I had the impression that once the liberty of being free from Debbie settled, Jess was presently content in his life. I also knew that I didn’t want to be a distraction to him. I could not be a summer girl to him anymore than I wanted him as only a seasonal romance. Add to the story a child who was only six, and I saw the impossibility of any chances for us being together. As Jess had mentioned the night before, he could not follow me if I left. This was not Cinderella and a lost shoe. The girl would remain a mystery and the shoe lost forever.
When the parade ended, I was supposed to meet Jess by the annual chicken lunch sponsored by the local Rotary club. Another small town tradition, heavy on delicious taste, included a boxed lunch of barbeque chicken, coleslaw, and baked beans. I waited patiently as Jess approached holding Katie’s hand. I bent down to hug Katie, and was surprised when I stood up that Jess kissed me on the neck in front of all the people in line for food.
“You looked wonderful,” I said to Katie. “Was it fun being in the parade as a princess?”
Katie’s eyes sparkled the same clear blue her father could have when he was calm and tender. She nodded her head.
I leaned over to speak in Katie’s ear.
“I have a secret. You were the most beautiful princess.” I hoped Katie remembered the story we had written together. Maybe, just maybe, I thought.
“Hungry?” Jess interjected as he led the way under the tent to order the lunches.
After lunch, there was a sand castle building contest for families, and I was warned to wear my suit for the event. When we reached the sandy beach, Jess met his brother Tom and Tom’s girls who had already started digging an elaborate ditch. The girls were probably too old to partake or care about the contest, but all were involved to support Katie. She brought twigs for drawbridges and small pebbles to line the castle walls. She found small muscle shells to make frame windows and doors. I sat back in the sand and watched as the castle was assembled by what could have been professional sand castle builders. All the entries were truly artistic in their design, but the traditional castle built by Jess and Tom was a spectacular sand sculpture. When Katie stepped back to admire the masterpiece, I whispered in her ear.
“It looks good enough for a princess to live in. I have a secret for you. Do you remember?”
Katie smiled at her father who came to hold her hand before she looked directly at me.
“I’d love to stay and live in that castle with you.”
There were actual judges for the sand castle competition with prizes for the winner, and Jess sat next to me in the sand as we watched small groups of people commenting on each submission.
“It’s fit for a king,” I joked.
“Only it needs a queen,” Jess commented back.
When the three of us rode the Ferris Wheel that night, Katie sat in the middle.
“I’m afraid of heights,” I admitted and I felt my stomach drop as we made the first round down. I grabbed onto Katie’s little hand grasped tightly on the locked safety bar as we made the second round. I pointed out the barges with fireworks awaiting the darkness just behind the rock wall bordering the harbor.
“Fire in the sky,” I quoted from Katie’s story. I said the words softly to her, leaning over to speak directly into her ear over the Ferris Wheel music, but the statement was not lost to Jess.
“What?”
Fireworks, Katie signed to no one in particular.
THE DAY WAS going quickly for me and with the sun lowering in the distant sky, I had a foreboding feeling of the clock striking midnight and my dress turning into rags. I had to tell Jess my plans, but I didn’t want to spoil the day. Jess bought Katie a hot dog and a doggie bowl of French fries, but I passed. I had a sickening feeling all of a sudden.
In order to see the fireworks at maximum viewing, the best place to sit is within the harbor limits, either on a boat or on the water’s edge. Tom and his family had reserved a small area with blankets and Jess suggested it was time to join the others to save the space. This trade gave the older girls time to enjoy the rides as twilight hit the carnival area. Jess showed me to a blanket for the two of us plus Katie. She took turns sitting on Jess’ lap or straddling mine. By late evening the air had cooled and Jess offered me his sweatshirt that rested on the blanket. He and I sat in silent anticipation as Katie played with the zipper on the jacket. Up and down, zip-zip, up and down. The light was fading fast and there was only a thin sliver of yellowy rays sandwiched between a dark blue sky and black waters.
“Almost time,” Jess said to Katie as she continued to zip a little faster. Up and down, zip-zip, up and down.
“I have one last secret for you, Katie girl,” I glanced sideways at Jess and made sure I cupped Katie’s ear enough that only she could hear as I spoke in a sing-song rhythm.
I will miss you when I go,
But I will always love you so.
And I’d love to hear you speak,
your words will stay with me.
Forever in my heart, smiles will show,
Because you are a part of me,
Wherever I may go.
I pointed to my heart after I finished my chant. Next I pointed to Katie’s heart and back to my own. I knew it sounded silly, but Katie was young. I gently kissed her forehead, and while Jess was watching the motions, I felt certain he did not hear what I had said.
We were sitting close together; close enough to touch, but we weren’t. Other than the kiss this morning, we hadn’t touched all day, and I reflected that what I thought was intimate might have been an innocent social kiss. It suddenly occurred to me that we only touched under darkness and utter privacy. Jess’ arm was behind me, propping him up, but not touching mine. My arm was crossed under his, holding me upright as well, but not touching him. Katie’s glance kept going from our arms to the zipper, arms to zipper. I didn’t mean to get annoyed, but the zipping motion was getting on my fraying nerves. I finally moved my hand to prevent the zipper from going up again. Jess noticed the move and told Katie, “Enough.”
I removed my hand and Katie slowly pushed the zipper back up. Slowly, very slowly. She was tempting fate, daring me to say something, but I didn’t. I waited. Jess looked at her again.
“Stop it,” he said.
“Are you trying to zip me up?” I asked. “Close me up tight so I can’t talk.” The words came out before I realized the implications of what I’d said.
“Mommy said shut up.”
Jess stared at Katie before he sat forward and reached for her. He grabbed the tops of her arms and dragged her towards him.
“What did you say?” his voice strained.
Silence.
“Jess,” I warned softly. “Don’t frighten her.”
Jess started to shake Katie slightly. “Say it again,” his voice pleaded.
> “Jess,” I said worriedly. I slowly reached my hand out to separate Katie from Jess. Gently, I gradually pried his fingers from her delicate little arms.
I stared at Katie and thought through the day, counting the secrets: the parade, the castle, and my words of missing her.
“The power is within you, Katie. Let your daddy hear your words. He’s waited a long time, Princess Katie.”
“Mommy told me to shut up. She said, ‘not one more word’.” Katie buried her face into Jess’ chest for fear of punishment, and Jess sat staring out at the harbor as his arms slowly went around his daughter. There were no tears of joy like I wanted to shed. Stunned, Jess expression was frozen in place as if someone had poured concrete over him. The first fireworks exploded.
It was twenty minutes of booms and explosions in the sky, and silence from our small blanket on the grassy ground beside the harbor. Katie turned her head to the side, resting it on Jess’ chest to watch the display before us. Amidst the ohs and ahs of the enthusiastic crowd was an awkwardness on our blanket more apparent than the vibrant reds and bright whites spreading in the sky. Katie watched a few sparkles dance to the water below as I stroked her hair. Jess still made no movement other than his grip around his daughter. Holding her, surrounding her, protecting her, he made no sounds.
When the fireworks were finished, the crowd stood and filed in slithering patterns to and fro, working through the mass of people to their cars, boats, and homes. Jess stood and picked up the blanket, never letting go of Katie. His brother had been nearby and noticed the look on Jess’ face. As tan as he was, Jess looked white in the dark night.
“She spoke again,” Jess directed at Tom.
“What?” It was the only response I heard as Jess began to walk through the crowd. I wasn’t sure if I should follow, but I needed to make my way in the same general direction as Jess. He was carrying Katie, and I grabbed Katie’s dangling leg for support. She straightened her leg and looked at my hand over her father’s shoulder.
