by Gail Sattler
Jillian turned her head down and mumbled into her plate. “There’s not too much to do during the day.” All she did during the day was housework, shopping when necessary, and occasional visits with her sister.
Jed grinned back at her, his bright blue eyes flashing. “Well, maybe we could play tennis, or go for a walk or something. I don’t know. I’m open to suggestions.”
She almost said no, but the more she thought about it, the less appeal lonely afternoons held compared to spending the time with Jed. Since teaching piano lessons involved sitting for hours, the possibility of a little exercise sounded better and better. Tennis seemed a little extreme, especially since it was nearly Christmas, but she was open to suggestions. “A walk sounds nice. Sometimes I go out to walk around the mall, just to get out and moving around.”
“If you like to walk, we’re about finished here. Want to go for a walk now?”
Jillian checked her watch. “Now? It’s dark out.”
Jed smiled that dazzling white smile she was growing so fond of. “It seems like a nice neighborhood, and it’s not raining. Unlike you people who were born and raised in the Vancouver area, I’m used to icy cold and being up to my armpits in snow this time of year. And don’t worry about it being dark; I don’t think anyone will bother us. Don’t forget, you’ll have Little Jed to keep you safe. And if you don’t think I can protect you, we can borrow my sister’s dog.”
The comment about “Little Jed” made her smile. The casualness of his attitude completely disarmed her, so she pretended to consider it. “Hmm. . .” She tapped her index finger to her chin. “Maybe. What kind of dog?”
Jed covered his heart with his palm and pretended to look hurt, making Jillian wonder if he’d ever taken acting lessons. “You’d pick the dog for protection over me?”
“Depends. Is it a Doberman?”
“It’s a mutt. A Heinz 57, mixed-heritage mongrel. An ordinary, hairy brown dog.”
His ridiculous hangdog expression made her snicker. “You win. Let’s go for a walk. Without the dog.”
Jed paid the bill, and they left. Jillian gazed out the window the entire drive back to her house. Stars shone overhead in the clear sky. The air was nippy, but it was still above freezing. She supposed she was spoiled, never having lived anywhere else. There had been some snow last winter, but it barely covered the ground and was gone within a day. And unlike most people, she had the luxury of not having to worry about driving to work in it, and Jillian liked it that way.
Jed locked his door, pocketed the keys, and ran around to Jillian’s side. “Ready?”
Still seated in the truck, she looked both ways down the block. “Where do you want to go?” she asked. Not that it really mattered.
He raised his hands in the air, then flopped them down to his sides. “Anywhere but to the school.”
Jillian couldn’t help but giggle as Jed held out his hand to help her out. Against her better judgment, his playful expression made her take his hand. “Then I guess we go that way.” She pointed.
He didn’t let go of her as they started to walk, and rather than protest over something so silly, she allowed him to hold her hand as they walked slowly and wordlessly down the street. They walked in silence, the only sounds being the clicking of her heels on the cement and the drone of the odd car in the distance.
When they approached a playground, Jed stopped. “Want to go for a swing?” He held out one arm in the direction of a large metal swing set.
Jillian checked from side to side, then up at him. “Us? Now?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
Jillian studied the swings. She hadn’t been on a swing in years, and at this hour, no one would see them. She could almost feel the brush of air on her face and the rush of weightlessness.
She nearly gave in to temptation, but good sense overruled. “I don’t think so. I can’t go on a swing in a skirt.” However, Jillian’s gaze remained glued to the vacant swings.
“Just wrap your skirt underneath you, and you’ll be fine. I’ll bet you haven’t been on a swing in years.” Jed smiled down at her, and she looked up, her gaze fixed on his eyes. He squeezed her hand, then released the pressure. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll push you. . . .” His voice trailed off as his smile widened.
Jillian’s heart fluttered in her chest. He was right: it had been years since she’d been on a swing. As a girl, she’d enjoyed many solitary hours swinging. She hesitated. If she gave in, no one would see. Forgetting the dignified image she tried so hard to uphold, she dropped his hand and ran to the swing
Tucking her skirt underneath her as much as she could, she wiggled her bottom into the rubber seat. “All set!” Jillian held the chain tightly and tilted her head backward, unable to wipe the smile off her face as Jed grasped the chain and pulled her back.
“Ready?”
“Ready!” Jillian held her breath as he pulled her further back and held her suspended for a few moments.
“Go!” With Jed’s firm but gentle push, Jillian dipped down, then swung up, exhilarated by the feeling of weightlessness before she drifted down and back again with the swing.
Jillian wiggled her feet as Jed continued to push her while she swung gaily back and forth. Stopping at the swings had turned out to be a great idea, something she never would have considered doing. She closed her eyes as she neared the top, then opened them and tilted her head back as she started to descend, floating backward to have Jed push her higher.
Feeling as free as a child, suspended for that brief moment in time before she drifted backward and down again, Jillian sucked in a deep breath of the cool air and kicked her feet. One shoe went flying off. “Oh no! Stop! Jed! My shoe!”
As she floated back, Jed’s hands grasped her by the hips, lowering her to a halt. Thankfully, he couldn’t see her blush in the darkness. With any luck, he would stay behind her while she looked for her errant shoe.
She leaned forward to hop off, but Jed didn’t let her go. “Don’t step in the sand in your stockings. I’ll find it. What color is it?”
Jillian held out the foot with the shoe still on it. “Well, this one is blue, so the one that fell must be the same. I realize that there must be lots of shoes out there, so knowing the color is dreadfully important.”
Jed stood in front of her and gave her a comical dirty look but said nothing.
“Really, Jed,” she chided him. “Ask a stupid question, you get a stupid answer.”
“It wasn’t a stupid question. If I was looking for a tan shoe the same color as the sand it would be impossible to find in the dark. If I was looking for a black shoe, it would be easy to find, and if I was looking for a white shoe, it would only be marginally difficult.”
“Jed, it’s December.”
“What? So?”
“You can’t wear white shoes past Labor Day.”
“Oh? Excuse me. Who wrote that rule?”
“It’s been in effect since the beginning of time.”
Jed mumbled something under his breath as he continued to look for the missing shoe in the dark. “Found it,” he called, shaking the sand out of it as he walked toward her. Instead of handing it to her, he bent down on one knee, picked up her foot, rubbed his thumb in a massaging motion along her instep, then slid the shoe onto her foot. He grinned up at her and then bowed. “Cinderella,” he said with a grin and a slight nod.
Jillian gulped. She wanted to say Prince Charming but couldn’t speak the words. He’d turned what would have been a dull evening into a fairy-tale night, bringing back a childhood simplicity she had long forgotten.
Jed stood and backed up a step. “Don’t kick your feet this time, okay? Don’t think I didn’t notice you kicking your feet.”
He walked behind her again to pull her back with another gentle push, starting her off again. After a few more pushes, Jillian drifted back and forth at a comfortable height, restraining herself from kicking her feet.
A movement caught her attention. Jed whooshed
past, riding the swing beside her, gaining more height with every repetition, until he was slightly higher than she was.
“Watch this!” he called out. As the swing reached the highest point, Jed jumped. “Bonzai!” he yelled, flying through the air with his hands and legs spread-eagle. He landed on his feet, continuing the momentum with a single somersault, and then stopped, standing with his hands raised high in the air. He turned around and bowed dramatically, grinning from ear to ear. “I knew I could still do it!”
Jillian feared her heart would pound through her chest. She clutched the chain with a death grip, forcing herself to gulp for air. When Jed went flying into the air like a reckless kid, all she could see was the image of him breaking his neck while she was helpless to do anything about it. And he had the nerve to be proud of himself.
She cleared her throat to find her voice. “Are you crazy?” she squeaked out. “You could have killed yourself doing a stupid stunt like that!”
“Hey, I knew what I was doing!” The silly grin remained while he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve done this a million times!”
Jillian continued to drift back and forth on the swing, not sure she could find the strength in her legs to drag herself to a stop. “And how old were you?”
He stood before her and laughed. “I don’t know. Fourteen?”
Jillian didn’t feel the least little bit like laughing. She felt like wringing his fool neck, the same neck he could just as easily have broken. “And you obviously haven’t grown up since then.”
“Hey! I wouldn’t have even thought of doing that in front of the kids.” He shrugged his shoulders, then rammed his hands into his pockets. “Bad example and all that stuff. Besides, you’re just jealous. I’ll bet it’s something you’ve been dying to do and are too afraid to try.”
“I am not!”
“Chicken.” He had the nerve to cluck.
“I’m not chicken.”
“Prove it.”
“Don’t dare me, mister.”
“Me? I would never dare you to do anything.”
Jillian said nothing. His attitude alone was a dare. It was dark. No one would ever know.
“I’ll catch you.” Jed planted his legs firmly apart and held out his arms, waiting in an open invitation.
“If you drop me, I’ll never forgive you.”
“I found your shoe, didn’t I?”
Jillian wondered what that had to do with anything as she pumped herself up higher.
“Here I come!” And with that, Jillian slid to the edge of the seat, stuffed her skirt between her knees, and pushed herself off. “Bonzai!” she called out. Time stretched in the exhilarating rush of being suspended in midair, and down she went.
True to his word, Jed caught her with no difficulty. Solid as a rock, he stood firmly rooted to one spot, catching her with ease. Slowly and gently, he lowered her to the ground, gripping her firmly around the waist. Jillian’s breath caught in her throat at the contact. He smiled down at her as her feet touched ground, and Jillian tried to convince herself that the increase in her breathing was from the excitement of the leap, not the landing.
Grateful that the darkness would hide the color she knew rose in her cheeks, she bent to smooth any crinkles from her skirt. “Well,” she mumbled, “both shoes are still on my feet.”
Jed apparently didn’t notice her discomfort. “Want to try bungee jumping next? I hear it’s fun.”
Jillian patted her hair down. “I don’t think so, Jed. This little daredevil adventure should keep me satisfied for the next ten or so years. And we should go. If we make any more noise, someone is going to call the cops. We both live in this neighborhood.” She lowered her voice. “Besides, I have to get up early for church in the morning.”
Jed sighed. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Me too.”
Careful to avoid his hand, Jillian walked beside Jed in silence the whole way back to her house. She would have to reconsider future dealings with Jed. As a student, she could ignore him, but as a Christian, she didn’t know which way to turn. Her head told her that she would be safe to trust him, but her heart told her that her higher expectations would only lead to bigger disappointments.
She unlocked her front door and pocketed her keys. As she pushed the door open, Jed’s soft voice murmured into her ear. “Can I see you again tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so, Jed.” Part of her wanted to tell him to wait until his next lesson, but part of her didn’t want to wait that long.
“Lunch Monday?”
Jillian opened her mouth to protest, but the wrong words came out. “Sure. Lunch Monday sounds fine.”
She waited for Jed to politely say good night, but instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Good night, Jillian, see you Monday. And think about bungee jumping; you’re a natural.”
Before she could properly unscramble her thoughts, he turned, strode to his truck, and drove off.
Jillian stood on her doorstep, staring at the huge truck until it rounded the corner. What had happened? The prim and proper piano teacher had just jumped screaming from a swing into a man’s arms at midnight—and enjoyed it. Her heart still pounded from his small kiss to her hand! Was he doing this on purpose?
She shook her head, reminding herself of what was bound to happen if she let things continue. Next lesson she would make it clear that they would not see each other except for lesson time.
Next lesson, she would talk to him. Unfortunately that would be after the lunch date she had already promised him.
five
Only the living room lamp was on, and that was on the lowest setting. Jed sucked in a deep breath as he gently inserted the key in the lock and turned it, praying the rumble of his truck hadn’t woken the dog. And if that hadn’t, surely the key would. He gritted his teeth as Missy scratched the door, but fortunately the dog didn’t bark. She had taken a month before she stopped barking at him when he arrived home from work at 2:00 in the morning, and now instead, she jumped on him and showered him with wet dog kisses. Jed didn’t know which was worse.
He shucked off his cowboy boots and pushed them into the row of shoes beside the door with his foot. As strange as it had been at the beginning, he kind of liked the feeling of not living alone. He’d had his own condominium for almost four years, but living alone, it had never felt like home.
He patted the dog to quiet her whining and tiptoed downstairs to the den, which was now his bedroom. Between the double bed, dresser, stereo, and his large television, he could barely move, but it was home.
Once he tucked himself in bed, he couldn’t sleep, even though he was tired. The evening had not progressed like he’d expected. He might have had a few ideas of his own before he arrived at Jillian’s house, but if God had other plans, it wouldn’t be the first time. The way things had turned out threw him for a loop.
Jed lay on his back in the dark, staring at the ceiling. What had come over him to act like that? Normally, he was a pretty responsible, respectable kind of guy. Whatever had possessed him to jump off the swing? He was a little too old to be showing off, but young enough to get carried away.
He covered his eyes with his forearm. Why had he kissed her hand like that? He could tell by her reaction that he’d surprised her, but he’d surprised himself even more: He’d been on the swings in the park at midnight with Jillian Jefferson, the piano teacher.
Jillian. He sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. What should he do? During lesson time, Jillian always remained quiet and reserved, but this evening proved what he had suspected all along. Underneath that prim and proper teacher lay a woman full of wit and whimsy. Warm and responsive, she’d held his hand. And she was a believer.
Jillian was hard to resist, but resist he must. He’d fallen for Brenda, but in the end, she’d squandered everything he had to give her, and more. If it hadn’t been for Brenda, he would already be in college, but instead, if he worked hard enough all year, he might be able to start next
September. He wasn’t going to let himself be in the position ever again where a woman made a fool of him. Not that Jillian would ever be so devious. She had too much dignity to do what Brenda had done.
Dignity? Was he referring to the woman who jumped off a swing at midnight? With those high heels, if he hadn’t caught her properly, she could have been hurt.
He smiled at the memory of holding her before he lowered her to the ground. Fortunately, the cover of darkness had prevented her from seeing his expression. At the time, he was sure he had been wearing his heart on his sleeve, something he couldn’t afford. His last experience had cost him a year off his life and a piece of his heart, and he wasn’t willing to chance a repeat performance.
He would get together with Jillian to have lunch only because he had already promised, and then he wouldn’t see her except for lesson time.
Jed finally fell asleep, dreaming about sharing a swing in the dark, accompanied by soft strains of gentle piano music in the background.
❧
Luckily, Jillian arrived at the coffee shop at the same time as Sue. Church had been late getting out, and she hated the thought of leaving Sue waiting. They picked a table against the window and settled in, ready to enjoy a quiet couple of hours without Sue’s four children.
“Enjoying the peace and quiet?” Jillian asked her frazzled sister, already knowing the answer.
Sue rolled her eyes, then turned her attention to her donut. “I can’t stay as long as usual. I have to do some shopping without the kids. I hate Christmas shopping, but I’m almost done, record early, too, if I can find what I want. Are you going to walk around the mall with me after we finish our coffee?”
Jillian groaned. “I went for a walk yesterday, and like a fool, I was in my high heels. My feet are killing me!”
