Chapter 20
December 1996
“Where’d the snow go?” Stan asked as he glanced through Jake’s bedroom window.
Jake had always enjoyed a snow-covered Christmas, but there just wasn’t one in the cards that year. It simply wasn’t cold enough. If it were, however, there would have been one heck of a snow storm going on in Anderson. Instead, a downpour of rain drenched everything and kept them from going outside. He wished Sara could have come over, especially if she had walked there in the rain. There was just something about the way she looks while dripping wet.
“So what are you guys doing for your two year anniversary tomorrow?” Stan asked while leaning back in Jake’s desk chair and swiveling toward him.
“We’re not sure. It’s weird with our anniversary being on Christmas Day, but I’m hoping to see her tomorrow night. It might get cold enough to snow by then.”
“Phil and Percy are coming over tomorrow,” Stan said. “Mom’s invited them for Christmas dinner, which is cool because I told Phil I’d show him my new gun.”
“Gun?” Jake asked, surprised. Stan had always wanted a gun but his father never felt it was time. He’d always assumed that meant Stan wasn’t mature enough to own one.
“Yeah, my dad gave it to me as an early Christmas gift.”
Stan ran off a series of numbers and letters describing his new toy but it was all gibberish to Jake. It wasn’t that he didn’t like guns, he just didn’t care.
“Are you going to carry it when you’re a big bad cop?” he eventually asked.
Stan laughed and waved him off. “Police issued firearms are a lot better than the one dad got me. I’ll get some real toys when I join the force.” He molded his hands as if they were holding a high caliber weapon and fired at the window. “Bye bye, bad guy.”
“Pretty sure cops don’t shoot to kill.”
“Oh, I know. I just winged him.”
“Then nice shooting, Tex. You’re a credit to your community.”
Stan laughed as he stood and stretched, touching the ceiling. Then he turned and pulled a piece of paper from the printer on Stan’s computer desk.
“Being that you don’t know a gun from a water balloon, I’ll draw it for you. Got a pencil?”
He opened the desk drawer and Jake jumped to close it again.
“There’s not one in there,” he said nervously.
“Then what is?” Stan asked with a mischievous smile.
He leapt at Jake and wrestled him away from the drawer with relative ease. It took him only a second to find his prize. Jake lurched forward, attempting to retrieve it from Stan’s hand, but he was repelled once again. Opening the felt lid, Stan startled and dropped the whole thing on the floor.
“Is that what I think it is?”
Jake didn’t answer, quickly scooping up the box and checking its contents.
“Jake,” Stan said in disbelief. “We’re only sixteen. You can’t get married.”
“It wouldn’t be immediate or anything,” Jake finally said just above a whisper, “after college, maybe. I mean, I’ve loved her since we were kids, and we’ve already talked about it. Why not make it official?”
“What’d your mom say?”
“I haven’t told her,” Jake said shyly. Stan stared at him, stupefied, so Ellis tried explaining. “Mom noticed all the hours I’ve been working, so I told her I was saving for college.”
“When will you tell her?”
“After Sara says yes.”
“If she says yes.”
Stan’s correction made Jake nervous. Of course they were going to get married, but was it too early to propose? They were still young and far from being the perfect couple. Was that something they should work on first?
He thought about the argument they’d had a few days ago. They had been making out; and, though they both agreed to hold off on sex, Jake didn’t realize that meant he couldn’t do other things. He’d been considering it for a while and was feeling adventurous that night, so he tried it. He groped her breast and she smacked him for it, and that led to the argument. He didn’t even remember the details; but, in the end, he knew she was right. One step leads to another. They shouldn’t be getting too physical if they wanted to save themselves for marriage.
They hadn’t spoken much since then, save for through Phil, who had become their go between in situations like this, but he was hoping to make it up to her with this ring. Not that he was proposing because of the fight; he’d bought the ring before making his ill-advised groping attempt. He might have proposed sooner even, but he didn’t want the fight lingering over them when he asked the question. It was coming soon, though.
“So if she says yes,” Stan said with a heavy drawl on if, “who gets to be the best man, me or Phil?”
“You can fight for it.”
“Excellent,” Stan said, kissing his bicep. “Not a challenge.”
“Phil’s been filling out since he took that weight lifting class for gym.”
“Then you better get married soon. It’s customary that the bride sleeps with the best man before the wedding, and I don’t want to miss out.”
Jake punched Stan in the arm hard enough to make him wince.
“It’s just a warm up,” Stan said while holding his arm. “It won’t mean anything.”
Jake hit him again, and Stan returned the blow to Jake’s knee, making him cry out and jump further back on the bed.
“At least make sure there’s a hot bride’s maid for me to flirt with.”
They laughed and Jake couldn’t help but think about the wedding. Both Stan and Phil would be in it, and Stan would, without a doubt, be the best man. Sara had a few friends who might fill Stan’s criteria for hot bride’s maids, particularly her friend Annie, whom Stan had been dating for the past few months, and they’ll probably be wearing green, Sara’s favorite color. Sara herself would be wearing white, of course, save for maybe her left breast. That might have to be beige. He smiled at the thought. He hated that they fought over that but there was still some pride in it.
A searing pain suddenly ripped through his arm.
“I said hot bride’s maid!” Stan demanded.
“Okay, okay!” Jake shouted, holding his arm. “Hot bride’s maid, I got it!”
The more Jake imagined Sara in an elegant wedding gown the more nervous he felt, but nothing would stop him from proposing. He wanted nothing more from life than to make Sara Campbell his wife and to promise her his eternal devotion.
Sara Ramsey, he thought to himself, Mrs. Sara Ramsey.
He couldn’t help but smile goofily at the thought.
Cicada Song Page 21
