by Karina Sharp
We enter the large auditorium, filled with balloons, bouquets of flowers, and excited friends and families of graduates. The last time I stepped foot in here was at my high school graduation, where I was Valedictorian of my class. Unexpectedly, being here stirs up positive feelings and memories. I would have never admitted it at the time, but I was proud of my accomplishments and my hard work to achieve them.
My head moves slowly with my gaze, taking it all in. My stroll down memory lane ends abruptly with Journey’s hand stiffening in mine.
“George,” she says sharply.
I turn my head to witness George giving her his doofus smile and attempting to be charming. “Journey, Jack- So nice to see you. What have you two been up to?”
Now, Journey might be a tiny person, but she has the gall of ten people her size. I’ve envisioned one day having to hold her back with one of my arms wrapped around her waist, and her legs and arms still flailing about, reaching for the object of her anger. Typically, she is a sweet natured, loving soul, but she does make a compelling case for keeping the stereotype of fiery redheads alive.
“Not that it’s any of your business, or even matters, but I recently moved in with Jack.”
George’s face grows grim, and his lips form a tight line, but he avoids eye contact. “Unwed and shacking up? Keeping it classy, kids.”
As much as I want to slug him and his stupid face into last week, I know all four feet, eleven- five feet, two inches in her heels -of Journey is a much more formidable opponent and far more impulsive than I. As I place my hands more firmly on her shoulders to usher her out of his slimy presence, he asks, “Are you two coming to the party tonight?”
Journey’s face turns cold and her body stiffens under my touch. “What party?”
“Oh- Did you not know? I thought surely Uncle John and Aunt Genevieve sent your family an invitation. Perhaps they sent it directly to your parents, Jack. Did you think they were going to let their little girl graduate from high school without the appropriate pomp and circumstance?”
“Gee, I don’t know, George, seeing as how I’ve lived here almost a year, interact with Jenny almost daily, and now live just down the highway from them, but have yet to meet them. Are they even here today?”
“Of course they are. Uncle John is the Guest of Honor. He did help build this lovely auditorium, after all. Such giving people they are.”
Journey’s fists ball up, and fury is emitted in a measure far greater than her little body should be able to muster. “If you ask me they seem like they-”
“Babe, I think they’re trying to start the ceremony,” I cut her off.
George and all of the Fosters deserve every bit of ire Journey has to dish out to them, but not right here and not right now. Journey remains stiff while glaring at me. I offer an apologetic smile.
She moves into George’s face- as well as she can -and points her index finger at him. “This. Isn’t. Over.”
“Oh, no, honey, it’s so far from over,” George mimics her tone.
I practically pick Journey up off of her feet, walking her to our seats near where Jenny will be seated. Journey’s reddened cheeks hide some of the cute freckles on her nose I’ve come to cherish. Sitting upright and tightly next to me, I know she’s angry with me for stopping her confrontation of George.
Music plays from the overhead speakers and she whispers to my side, “I could’ve taken him, you know.”
I pat her leg and chuckle, “I know, baby. I have no doubt.”
Journey’s hand laces in mine, her body eases into me, and her head rests against my arm. I feel her smile against me and her body moves with internal laughter.
Yup, she’s feisty, she’s brash, and she’s all mine.
John Foster gives some sleepy speech encouraging graduates to follow their dreams, follow The Golden Rule, and other tired, typical commencement speech topics.
Following his droning, Jenny gives her Salutatorian speech, which is beautiful, insightful, and haunting.
“I don’t want to lecture you all about the great things you can do or the wonderful places you’ll take your lives, because the truth is, I myself don’t have that wisdom. I’m only eighteen, and I don’t have the answers. I don’t have nuggets of knowledge to pass down, nor do I have a crystal ball that can predict the future. One thing I do know for sure is that every single one of us will experience difficulties and trials in life. Someone once told me that each person’s struggle is relative, meaning what may be difficult for one person to bear may seem trivial to another, and that’s very true. Another thing I know for certain: What gets us through these tribulations is hope.
“I used to believe that stories began with once upon a time and ended with happily ever after, but that was when I was naive. I realized that the happily ever afters never come and the once upon a times tend to come back, whether you want them to or not. Why do I say this? Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. Happily ever after puts a period on things. Happily ever after indicates a conclusion. Happily ever after signals the end. I, for one, like to believe that happily ever afters are probably boring. If there’s a definite ending to your own personal story, then that means you’ve stopped learning, stopped growing, and stopped having hope that life has more to offer us.
“We can never give up hope, even if things are not how we want them, and we seem to be headed down a path of which there is no return. I know, because, like you, I too have trouble holding onto hope. Sometimes the future seems too dim or confusing or so overwhelming that it’s hard to see that small beacon of hope, ever constant, lighting the way.
“Most of the time, hope is a vile thing that betrays you at every single turn; however, we still cling to it, despite its continued disappointments, because when it does prove to be our ally, all of its ugliness fades away and, in those few moments of bliss, holding onto it was well worth the risk.”
By the end of the speech, Journey is wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, and my chest is tight with the pride a big brother holds for his baby sister. Jenny is a member of our family, and I know somewhere locked deep within her are some terrible demons that I wish I could slay for her, but it’s almost impossible to fight a foe that you cannot see nor identify.
Jenny smiles at us and winks. Sidled to the love of my life, watching the young lady that Jenny has become, my cheeks begin to hurt from my enormous smile.
Family members cheer, whistle, and clap excitedly as their graduates cross the stage to receive their diplomas. As Jenny walks across, Journey jumps up out of her seat and begins cheering and yelling wildly. I laugh to myself considering how much noise can come from one person. Journey’s voice echoes through the room, bouncing off of the floors and rafters, and it dawns on me that she’s the only one standing and cheering. The entire clan of Fosters turn their perfectly poised heads to the side, looking pointedly at us. Beneath their veneered smiles, I know they are seething. I look away from them, and give a loud whistle, just for spite. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Journey smiling up at me in what I can only describe as astonished joy. I’m a little surprised at myself as well. I think this is the first outward and public display of something other than cool, calm, and collected I’ve ever made. Based on Journey’s unadulterated gaze, I think it’s something I might do more often.
The graduates move their tassels as their diplomas are conferred, then promptly throw up their caps upon the declaration of their graduation to thunderous applause. After they’re dismissed, Jenny bypasses her family and makes a beeline for us. She jumps into Journey’s arms, and they bounce up and down in a tight embrace.
“You did it!” Journey exclaims.
“With your help!” Jenny wriggles out of Journey’s arms and comes to me, hugging tightly. “And yours, big brother from another mother. Thank you so much.”
“Congratulations, little sis from another miss.”
Journey reaches into her purse and pulls out a small box from Tiffany’s. “I was goi
ng to wait to give this to you, but no time like the present, right?” Journey giggles and snorts a tiny bit. “A present present.”
Jenny’s eyes light up. “A gift for the current place and time? That’s so sweet of you.” She unties the white fabric ribbon and opens the small blue box. Inside of an even smaller blue suede bag, she is grateful watching her new sterling silver ring reflect the yellow hue cast from the overhead fluorescent lights. “It’s magnificent! Thank you both so much.”
“One more thing,” I say, smirking. Journey looks to me in confusion as I reach into my breast pocket and place an envelope in Jenny’s hands.
Jenny opens the envelope and pulls out three tickets. She reads them aloud, “Florence and the Machine AND The Head and the Heart?” Jenny’s wide eyes stare back at us in shock. “Oh. My. God. It’s my dream concert! How did you? Oh god, Jack! You’re the best ever!”
Two pairs of small, but strong, female arms wrap around my waist and my body is pulled in every direction as the girls move excitedly.
“Ah, there you are.” The hair on the back of Jenny’s neck stands up and she shudders ever so slightly at the sound of George’s voice. “We were wondering where you ran off to.”
Her posture straightens and discomfort streaks her face. “I was talking to the Crofts since I probably won’t see them all weekend.”
“Your parents are looking for you. They want to take pictures and the like.”
Jenny drops her head and becomes unusually formal, nodding in our direction. “My apologies, George. Pardon me, please- Journey, Jack? It was a pleasure as always.”
Jenny walks away toward the gaggle of overdressed, overindulgent people pretending not to stare in our direction.
George eyes me. “The Crofts? I didn’t realize that sharing an address meant that you share a last name. What’s the monthly allotment Jack’s paying you from his trust, or are you just giving the milk away for free now?”
I see red- absolute, dark as blood, red. I fill the space between Journey and George in one quick stride, staring down and challenging George. “What exactly are you implying? Before you answer, I caution you to choose your words wisely, asshole.”
George says through his smile, “I wasn’t implying anything. Implication is not required when there’s fact involved. Come on, Jack, everyone knew what she was the moment you met. What kind of girl fucks the first guy she meets on vacation, then keeps fucking him, and only fucking him, one week out of the year? You really think it was your sparkling personality? She probably pegged you for a chump with money, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
“You sonofabitch ass pussy,” Journey spits out.
George’s eyes move toward Journey, then back to me as his smile grows. “Or was it you who just wanted to use her on vacation, then not deal with her until a year later? She is a little, pedestrian, if you know what I mean.”
My face is red from my quickening pulse and pounding heart. I draw my arm back, ready to strike him as hard as I can, and several more times after that, but before I can, Journey slips in front of me and connects George’s crotch to her knee.
George’s knees buckle and immediately moves his hands in front of his groin. “Ow! You bitch! You hit me in the balls!” George cries.
“And I’ll do it again if you ever imply that Jack Croft is anything less than a stellar human being with only the best intentions at all times. Call me what you want, but I’m a doctor you pussy ass willow. Who the hell are you? Honestly? Outside of this town, no one knows who the fabulous Fosters even are.” George looks injured, but keeps his tough exterior. “Oh...that’s right… I guess you didn’t get the memo that in the Hamptons, on the Cape, on the Vineyard, in Aspen, and even in Mexico, no one gives a crap on a saltine cracker about you or your sorry family.” Journey takes a tiny lunge forward and George backs away. “Today is not your day, it’s Jenny’s, so move out of my way so I can tell my favorite girl goodbye. Have a great time at your oh-so-happening party tonight, George. I hope you have lots of ice to nurse your bruised testicles and ego.”
I’m elated with how things just went down. Journey was never in danger, because there’s no way I was going to let him touch a hair on her head- I would’ve snapped his neck, but she didn’t need me to rescue her. She’s strong-willed and can stand up for herself. Some men may feel emasculated by their love stepping in and defending their honor, but Journey has never been sexier to me than she was standing up for both of us. From the moment we get home, I make it a point to show her just how irresistible I find her.
Chapter 25
June
Jack
The music festival is filled with all kinds of fascinating people and just as interesting smells. Journey went so far as to look up the fashion people are wearing to music festivals these days. I just threw on dark washed jeans and a black screen-printed tee with some comfy converses and a casual watch that I believe went well together. Journey, on the other hand, has on layers including a lacy, flowy vest, over a flowy top, several necklaces, bracelets, earrings, boots, and even a leather headband in her hair, but none of that matters. What I notice, and what keeps my focus, are her blue jean cut-offs that barely cover her butt cheeks. Her lean, muscular legs are on display, which are softer and curvier than they were when we met, but I find them sexier now. She was irresistible then, but her body was that of the athlete she was. Now, she’s morphed into a sophisticated, mature woman, whom I fantasized about long before I could even comprehend what my dreams were about.
Jenny, wearing a similar outfit, is excited and acting as such, but not with as much pep as I thought she would have. Jenny is the kind of person who gets excited and jumps for joy when her éclair has an extra dollop of filling, so one would think she would be over the moon for her “dream concert.”
We move and sway to the low-key sounds of The Head and the Heart. I enjoy their raw sound and entrancing harmonies. Many of their songs prompt me to bring Journey closer and hold her in my arms. Jenny sits solemnly next to us on a blanket we placed on the ground, distracted.
“Any idea what’s bugging Jenny?” Journey asks.
“You noticed that too, huh? I have no idea.”
“I’ve tried a few times to hint around, but was unable to break the surface ice.”
“I don’t know, but I’m kind of worried about her.”
“Me too. I’m going to go visit the bathroom and the beer tent. Maybe you’ll be more successful.”
“Doubtful, but I’ll try.”
“Thank you, baby.” Journey pecks me on the lips and wiggles her fingers in a wave as she wanders toward the bathroom.
Trying to find the best method of approaching Jenny, I elect to simply sit next to her and feel her out. “Hey, you’re right, they’re amazing.”
Jenny’s mouth smiles, but her eyes do not as she continues to look absently toward the stage, which is preparing for the headline act. “I told you. You’ll love Florence too. I know you know a few of their songs, but my favorite is ‘Never Let Me Go.’”
“I don’t think I know that one.”
“I think I played it on the way back from Boston last year, but you may not remember it. I love it. It speaks to me.” Jenny folds her hands in her lap and sighs. Looking over to me, she can read my expression well. Always perceptive and never one to hold back, she states matter-of-factly, “I’m guessing you’re wondering what’s going on with me.”
“Your ability to read minds is uncanny, you know that?” I catch her unsteady gaze. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to, but you know we care about you and are willing to do anything to help you find a solution to whatever is bothering you.”
“I don’t know that there is a solution to this one, but I know that.”
I lean back onto my hands, looking at the puffy clouds roaming around the blue sky. “That one kind of looks like a key. A key key, if you will.” Jenny remains silent and as my eyes travel back to her countenance, I see that her eyes are
full of tears. “Hey, whatever it is, I’m sure it does you no good to keep it all to yourself.”
Almost inaudibly, Jenny mumbles, “I’m pregnant.”
A million questions and thoughts fill my brain. Who? When? How long? Why? I also want to ask how she could be so irresponsible, but hitting me like a MAC truck, I realize all of the implications that come with her being pregnant- college, cheerleading, career, family, future -all now out of her reach, at least in her mind. All unclear. My heart wrenches and I’m suddenly very sad for her. Still sitting on the blanket next to her, she draws her knees up to her chest, hugging them, sobbing, and I put my arms around her shoulders, letting her know she’s still just as important and safe as she was before she revealed her secret. Jenny continues crying softly into her arms and I silently try to comfort her.
Journey returns to a tearful Jenny. “Jenny, are you okay?”
Jenny sniffles and wipes her nose. “No. I too have a poopsicle that’s graduated into a certified shitsicle.”
Journey sits down, hands me the plastic cup of beer, pulls Jenny into her arms, and says, “Hey, BooBoo. Tell me all about it.”
Jenny weeps and informs Journey about her pregnancy. Through their conversation, I learn that Jenny is almost certain that she got pregnant at the end of May, so she believes she’s about six weeks along. She has not sought out prenatal care, and she seemed a bit hesitant when Journey said she would place a call to one of her favorite OB/GYN’s in the area. One big thing that she never reveals, and we don’t press the issue, is who the father is. She’s had boyfriends off and on throughout the year, so she may not know, or she’s protecting the father’s identity. She probably feels she might ruin some young man’s life and/or reputation. Jenny states that her parents don’t know yet about her condition, but she plans to tell them soon. We offer to be there for moral support when she informs them, if she needs us.
The sun sets on our music festival as the music of Florence + The Machine rings out into the soggy night air. A song plays that I recognize as the one Jenny played in the car on the Boston trip. I’m reminded as to why I found it to be a peculiar choice. The music and lyrics are mesmerizing, but solemn. Jenny sobs louder as it plays, and the words call my attention:
