Strawberry Wine

by Darly Jamison

  “Hey, man, I heard about what happened the other day between you and Brett,” my friend Eric commented to Jake, slapping him on the back with proud-male sportsmanship. “I hear you kicked his ass!” He laughed loudly. “That bastard deserved it, too. I would have done it myself a long time ago, but I’ve never actually gotten into it with him. I just try to keep my distance.”

  Jake shrugged off the compliment. “He had it coming. If I hadn’t done it, someone else would have. Probably Addison, here,” he suggested, giving me a sideways wink. “I hear she’s got a mean right hook.” Everyone laughed as I slugged his shoulder. It was just like him to take the attention off himself.

  “Brett’s parents are on vacation this week, and he’s been partying at his house every single night. Have you seen him lately?” Eric asked, looking around at the crowd. “He’s a wreck.”

  Suddenly, Matt, another friend, started laughing. “His mom and dad aren’t on vacation—he just said they were! Brett’s mom is visiting her parents back in Ohio, and his dad is in Mexico with his new girlfriend.” He cackled again. “Didn’t you hear? They’re getting divorced.”

  Everyone gathered around the fire began laughing, but I didn’t think it was very funny, and judging from the look on Jake’s face, neither did he. Making fun of someone else’s misfortune wasn’t my idea of a good time. Picking up my boots, I started heading back toward the house, leaving everyone to their mean jokes.

  Suddenly, I heard a rustling noise approaching from behind. I turned to find Jake following, a frown covering his face.

  “Hey, Addison,” he called after me. “Are you all right?”

  Why did I feel like he was always asking me that?

  “I’m fine.” I released a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I just don’t want to talk about Brett. I’d like to forget he ever existed.”

  Jake looked down at the ground and fell in step beside me. “I understand.” He nodded. Shadows from the moon danced across his face, obscuring his features. “It’s interesting about his parents, though, don’t you think? Maybe it explains some of his inappropriate behavior. Divorce can really screw a kid up.”

  I shrugged my shoulders, trying to dismiss the whole topic.

  He gave me a funny look. “You know, when my parents divorced, I was messed up for a long time. Not that I’m saying it excuses his behavior,” he added, looking at me with an intense expression. “Nothing excuses the way he treated you.”

  I supposed he did have a point. If there was trouble at home, that could be why Brett was acting out. Still, I didn’t want to talk about him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your parents weren’t together.”

  “It happens. I guess nothing in life is a guarantee,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Hey—what do you say we get out of here?” Jake asked suddenly, changing the subject.

  “I can’t,” I responded with a wicked grin, even though I was already sold on the idea. “What about Ruby? She’d kill me.”

  “Shoot her a text. Tell her you’ll see her tomorrow. Besides, I don’t think she’ll even realize we’ve left. Did you see the way she was snuggling up to that Tommy guy?” he asked with an amused expression. “I have a feeling she’s going to be too busy to think about us.”

  I started to laugh. I had noticed that, too. “So, what do you want to do?”

  Jake shrugged, but there was a distant gleam of delight in his eyes. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we can think of something.”

  The promise of adventure hung heavy in the air, and I felt a shiver of excitement race through me. I was up for almost anything he had in mind. Without hesitating, I gave him a nod.

  “Let’s get outta here, then.” He smiled down at me and reached for my hand. His grasp was warm and comforting.

  We walked quickly toward his truck so we could escape before anyone noticed. I stole a sideways peek at Jake and marveled again at his handsome features. He was truly the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen in my life.

  I’d been a little nervous about introducing him to my friends, but realized it had been a good idea after all. It’d been a long time since we had a newcomer to our group, and the prospect of meeting someone different—and older—had left my friends duly impressed. Jake opened the truck door for me and I hopped inside, anxious to see what kind of plans he had in mind for the rest of the evening. I didn’t have to be home until 12:30, and the night was still young. He slid into the driver’s seat and regarded me with a slow smile.

  “Let’s go,” he said, turning the key and putting the truck into gear. We sprung forward down the drive and I looked out the window into the side mirror at my reflection. I was happy to see that the breeze from the lake had given my long hair an attractive, tousled appearance. I glanced back at Jake and found him staring at me.

  “You look very pretty,” he said, then reached for my fingers and brought the back of my hand to his lips. He planted a small kiss and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Suddenly, I wondered if he had any idea of the effect he had on me.

  I hated to admit it, but I was falling fast.

  Chapter Nine

  A short while later Jake and I pulled up to a modest yet appealing Cape Cod–style home.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “My aunt and uncle’s house.” Jake pulled into a parking space and killed the engine. “But don’t worry,” he reassured when he saw the look of alarm on my face. “They go to bed early. There’s no way they’re still awake.”

  I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.

  I slipped on my boots and Jake walked around and opened my door. We left the truck and walked up the steps to a small front porch. Jake pulled out a key and opened the door, leading me into a beautifully decorated—and completely empty—house. My pulse kicked up a notch wondering how he planned to occupy our time.

  “Do you want to make some ice cream?” he suggested, looking at me with childlike excitement.

  Ice cream? I breathed a sigh of relief. “You mean, do I want to eat some ice cream?”

  “Well, yes, eventually we’ll eat it. But first, we have to make it.”

  I smiled at his enthusiasm, albeit a bit reluctant. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to go buy some ice cream?”

  “I suppose. But where’s the fun in that?”

  I followed him into the kitchen and he turned on a soft light, illuminating the room just enough, but not too much. The low light added to the chemistry I felt growing between us. Abruptly, I put my hand to my mouth to cover a giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, his head buried in the pantry. Jake turned toward me, balancing bags of sugar and salt in his arm. He carried a small bottle of vanilla and a can of condensed milk in the other.

  “This just isn’t how I expected the night to go. I mean, coming back to your house and making ice cream.”

  “Hey—don’t knock it till you try it, Addison. I promise you, this will be the best ice cream you’ve ever had,” he countered, flashing me the smile that made my insides dance.

  He set down the ingredients and reached back into the pantry, pulling out an ancient ice-cream maker.

  I started to laugh. “Are you sure that thing is going to work? It looks ready to retire.”

  “I will have you know that while very experienced in the art of ice-cream making, she still has lots of years left in her.”

  “She?”

  “Yes, she.” He smiled, the tiny dimple appearing in his cheek. Jake added the ingredients into a bowl and took out a mixer. Turning it on, he began to smooth together the contents.

  “So, did you have fun tonight?” he asked, his eyes never leaving his project.

  I shrugged and pulled up a stool. Sitting down on it, I answered, “I did, for the most part, anyway. How about you?”

  “Sure. Your friends are very nice.” Sliding the mixer over, he said, “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

  I took a spoon and moved it over the sides of the bowl, carefully making sure all of the ingredients were mix
ed together evenly.

  “You know,” I said thoughtfully, “I could really use some ice cream right about now.”

  “I thought you might. For some unknown reason, frozen globs of sugar tend to have magical healing properties.”

  I watched as he poured the mixture into the ice cream maker, adding a pinch of salt and splash of milk. Retrieving a bag of ice from the freezer, he added that as well. He pulled up another stool and began rotating the crank on the old machine. I was surprised to see how easily it turned in his grasp.

  “So. Did you like him?”

  “Did I like who?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Brett,” he responded. “I mean, you agreed to go to prom with him. Does that mean you liked him?”

  I thought for a moment before answering. “I liked him as a friend. A few different guys had invited me, but I said yes to Brett because—because there was something about him,” I admitted. “He had that bad-boy edge that was sort of intriguing. It’s not that I liked him liked him, but honestly, he’d been somewhat appealing. More so than the other guys who invited me, anyway. I wasn’t interested in a relationship with him, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean, I guess I could tell he was attracted to me, but I just thought maybe we would have a good time together.”

  Jake gave me a silent look and I could tell he wanted me to continue.

  “Brett’s always had a strong personality. Either it seems people like him or they don’t. But he’s really changed over the past few months.”

  Jake was quiet as he processed the information I gave him. He looked as if he wanted to say something but remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself.

  “I guess I know now he has some problems at home,” I went on, feeling relieved to finally get it all off my chest. “And while I can sympathize with his struggles, I just want nothing to do with him.”

  “I agree with you, Addison,” Jake said, pausing at the ice cream maker. He got up from the stool and added more ice to the mixture. Sitting down again, he began to crank the machine. “I think you should stay away from him. Brett’s a mess. He’s drinking; he’s bullying girls. He may have his problems—and that’s unfortunate—but he’s dangerous. And unpredictable,” he added.

  Giving the ice cream a couple more cranks, he announced, “I think it’s ready.”

  My desire to taste the homemade concoction grew when he handed me an ice-cream-filled bowl and spoon, and I dove right in.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed. “This is amazing!”

  He smiled and said, “There’s nothing quite as good as homemade ice cream.” And with that, he lifted a giant spoonful into his mouth.

  “Where did you learn to make this?”

  “My grandpa George taught me when I was thirteen. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents growing up, especially after my parents divorced.” His blue eyes clouded over and I sensed he wanted to talk about it. It was the second time he had mentioned their separation this evening, so I very gently prodded, giving him permission to vent.

  “When did they divorce?”

  Taking another bite, he answered, “They separated when I was ten, but divorced when I was twelve. I had a rough few years after that. Joint custody is tough on a kid, your time being split between two parents and all.”

  Jake sighed and looked off in the distance. I didn’t like the serious expression that covered his normally smiling face. It made me feel sad.

  “Your schedule is always changing and you never really settle into a comfortable routine. Nothing is consistent, and that includes rules. So naturally, I liked to see how much I could get away with. It took me a long time to not feel so angry with my parents. Back then, I thought they had ruined my life.”

  I watched him as he reflected on his past and couldn’t help but notice how different we were, and yet how very much the same. I had a hard time imagining what it would be like to split my time between two parents. It seemed confusing.

  “Do you still feel that way about them?” I asked curiously.

  “No,” he said after a moment. “I understand them better now. I know they didn’t divorce to ruin my life. It was something they needed to do for themselves. To make them happy. But it’s hard to see that when you’re an angry teenager. My brothers had an easier time dealing with it than I did. I think it was because they were quite a bit younger than I was when Mom and Dad separated.” He looked at me and smiled. “We’re all pretty close now. My parents may not have made good partners, but they make amazing friends. They’ve both remarried, and believe it or not, they all hang out together.”

  “They all hang out together? You’re kidding!” I laughed in shock. “That seems a little weird.”

  “I suppose it would seem that way from the outside looking in. But it works for us. So,” he said, changing the subject. “You really like the ice cream?”

  I nodded. “Absolutely! It’s really good. You’re right—I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”

  We spent the next hour devouring the remaining dessert and talking about my childhood. He seemed a little reserved when I discussed family vacations and whatnot. I imagined he felt like he had missed out on some things growing up.

  When Jake dropped me off at home—fifteen minutes early—he walked me to the door and planted a soft kiss on my lips, careful not to overstep any bounds.

  I gave him a little wave as he walked back toward his truck. Suddenly, he turned around and called out, “I’m busy tomorrow, but can I call you on Sunday?”

  I shook my head and smiled. “I was hoping you would.”

  He gave me a lopsided grin before hopping into his pickup and driving away into the night.

  Chapter Ten

  Sunday morning after church found me with my cell phone glued to my hand, awaiting Jake’s promised call. I’d had an amazing time with him Friday night and was anxious to get together again. I hoped he felt the same way. His call finally came shortly before noon.

  “Are you busy?” he asked after I picked up. “I was hoping we could get together later. Maybe dinner and a movie?”

  “I think I can manage that,” I responded coyly. I could practically hear Jake grin on the other end.

  “There’s an old show playing at the drive-in. Have you ever seen Casablanca?”

  Suddenly, I burst into laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I thought you were going to say Godzilla or something,” I responded, taken by surprise.

  “Do you really think I am so shallow I would rather watch a cheap cinematic horror film as opposed to one of the greatest romantic melodramas of our time?” Jake exclaimed, in mock disbelief.

  “I’m sorry,” I teased. “I’m having a difficult time understanding your educated college lingo. I am, after all, an immature teenager, and classic Godzilla would be the preferred choice among most people my age.”

  “Well then, please allow me to enlighten you with my more advanced taste.” He laughed. “Seriously, Addison, if you’ve never seen it, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  I thought for a moment before responding. A drive-in movie seemed a bit dangerous—from a parent’s perspective, anyway—and I didn’t know if mine would allow me to go.

  As if reading my mind, he suggested, “I can talk to your parents, if you like. Ask their permission? That way they don’t get the wrong idea.”

  I smiled into the cell phone. “I’m going to take you up on that. I don’t want to see their faces when they find out their baby girl, and only child, has been invited to the drive-in by a college man.”

  I heard him chuckle on the other end. “Okay, so it’s settled. I’ll pick you up at five thirty.”

  “You’re awfully confident. You haven’t even asked them yet.”

  “I’m not worried,” he responded boldly.

  An hour later, my mom approached me as I was reading a book on the back deck. Completely absorbed in Bella and Edward’s love affair, I didn’t hear her walk onto the p
atio.

  “So,” she began, clearing her throat. “I hear you’re going to the movies tonight with Jake?”

  I looked up from the story, my eyes wide with surprise. “Really? I’m allowed to go? You and Dad don’t mind?”

  She gave me a small smile and held my gaze. “Yes, you can go. But Addy—we need to have a talk.” She walked closer to me, but did not sit down. I could tell something serious was on her mind. “Jake’s an older guy,” she began, hesitantly. “And while he seems like a perfectly nice young man, college guys sometimes have ideas . . .” She trailed off, clearly embarrassed.

  I felt my face flush at the prospect of the difficult topic. “Mom, he is a nice guy. And he would never expect anything more from me than I was prepared to give.”

  Nervous, she cleared her throat again. “It’s not so much Jake I’m worried about, honey. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m concerned. But your father seems to like him, and that’s saying a lot. Honestly, it’s you.”

  My jaw dropped in astonishment. My mother didn’t trust me with Jake?

  “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Addy. And he is an extremely handsome boy. I know you’re growing up and I can’t watch over you forever. I just need to know that you’re going to make smart choices.”

  I fought the urge to bring up my lunch. Was she saying that she didn’t trust me? The shocked expression on my face must have given me away.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, honey—I know you have a good head on your shoulders. But this is your first real date, without a group of your friends nearby. Eventually, there will be decisions you’re going to have to make. Just remember, when you make certain choices, it’s impossible to go back to the way things used to be.”

  Uh-oh. We were actually going to have the sex talk. Embarrassed, I looked away from her. We’d spoken about this before, first when I entered high school and again before prom last year. It seemed silly to rehash the conversation, especially when it was obvious she’d been watching me look at him.