Strawberry Wine

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Strawberry Wine Page 9

by Darly Jamison


  “Addy, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable . . .”

  “I know, Mom,” I interjected.

  “But there are some things I need you to hear. I’m not going to lecture you on . . . taking precautions. We’ve already had that discussion years ago. But you need to keep in mind that decisions you make today can affect your entire life.”

  “Mom, please! I’m not going to have sex with him!”

  Mom looked uncertain. “Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow. But there is a strong attraction between the two of you—I can see it. And you’re practically an adult. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t bring these things up?” she asked gently. “It’s just as uncomfortable for me to talk about this as it is for you to hear it. When I look at you I still see my little girl, with scraped knees and pigtails in your hair. But you’re not a little girl anymore, Addy. You’re turning into a beautiful young lady. And you’re smart, too. So much smarter than I was at your age.”

  I looked at her carefully, trying to read between the lines. What was she admitting to? We had never discussed Mom’s life before Dad.

  “I had an older boyfriend when I was in high school, and he broke my heart,” Mom admitted, as if she could read my mind. “And I need you to understand that when you make grown-up choices, you can never take them back. I’m just afraid you’re going to get in over your head.” Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears, and a wave of empathy washed over me.

  “Mom,” I began, standing up and walking over to her. “You don’t need to worry. I’m not planning on having sex right now. Not with Jake or anyone else. And yes, someday I will have to make certain choices. But I promise you those choices will not be made tonight.” I heard Mom sigh softly in relief.

  But if we were going to have this talk, it was best to just lay it all out on the table because no way did I want to have to do it again.

  “And when that time comes,” I continued, “I will take into consideration every possible consequence that accompanies my decision. You and Dad have done a good job raising me, and now you have to trust me to do the right thing. Maybe you won’t always agree with my choices, but I promise you I will not compromise myself or my beliefs.”

  Mom smiled at me and wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I love you, Addy,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “And your father and I do trust you.” After a long moment, she pulled away and held my face in her hands. “You make us so very proud.”

  I returned her smile and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I love you, too, Mom.”

  * * *

  Jake arrived promptly at 5:30, just like he promised. After he exchanged pleasantries with my parents, we were on our way to our first official date.

  “So, what’s for dinner?” I asked after we settled into his truck. The evening was heavy with humidity and I pushed my hair away from my face, wondering if I should have thrown it up into a messy bun.

  He smiled. “I don’t know. What are you in the mood for?”

  I pretended to think, although I already had dinner planned out. “Ice cream,” I stated, firmly.

  “Ice cream?” His eyes shot up in amusement. “For dinner?”

  “Not just ice cream,” I answered, as though he should know better. “Sweet Retreat has the best walking tacos, and I’ve been craving Mexican food and a chocolate milkshake all day!”

  Jake chuckled. “That’s one thing I like about you, Addison. You’re not afraid to eat in front of me.”

  I laughed out loud and gently shoved his shoulder, pretending to be offended. “So, what’s Casablanca about anyway?” I asked.

  He gave me a look of exasperation. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen it.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and gave him a cockeyed grin.

  “It takes place in early 1940s North Africa. It’s about the owner of a popular café named Rick who runs into his old love, Ilsa. But she’s married now to someone else,” he explained. “They’d met years before in Paris and were planning to escape together because the Germans were about to invade France, but she never showed up.”

  I frowned. “That sounds really serious.”

  “It’s one of the greatest movies of our time.” He shrugged. “Everyone needs to see it at least once.”

  “And how many times have you seen it?”

  “Including this time?” He gave me a sideways smirk. “Once.”

  “Wait, what?” I shrieked. “You’ve never even seen this movie?”

  Jake started to laugh. “Not straight through, only in bits and pieces. But I’ve always wanted to.”

  “You made it sound as if you knew what you were talking about.”

  “I do know what I’m talking about. I studied Casablanca in Film Education. Only, I missed the class when they watched the movie from beginning to end—I skipped that day,” he added sheepishly. “My bed felt way too cozy.”

  I stared at him for a long moment before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “You! You’re so full of crap. You intentionally misled me.”

  “I didn’t mean to, Addison. I really do want to see this movie. And I’d like to see it with you,” he added with a smile.

  Naturally, my stomach did a flip-flop. Would I ever get through a night with Jake without being assaulted by butterflies?

  We devoured our meals at the Sweet Retreat and pulled into the drive-in just as the sun was beginning to set in the west.

  “Have you ever been here before?” Jake asked.

  I nodded. “We used to come here a lot when I was a kid. I loved it,” I said, reflecting on the happy memories. “It always felt like a special treat.”

  “I’ve never been to a drive-in before,” he confessed. “Would you like some popcorn?”

  “Sure. What’s a movie without popcorn, right?”

  I stayed in the truck as he left to get popcorn and drinks. Pulling a small mirror out of my purse, I ran my fingers through my windblown hair and reapplied some lip gloss. My stomach felt a little nervous. I knew tonight might be a changing point in our relationship. Not that I had plans of taking things too far. I meant what I had said to my mom earlier about not giving in to anything before I was ready. But I knew our relationship would undoubtedly progress a little further, and I was okay with that.

  Jake arrived back to the truck just as the movie was starting. Placing the drinks in the cup holders and holding the popcorn in between us, he scooted a little closer and gave me a small smile. I nervously wondered if he’d any expectations for the night.

  We shared our snack and watched a couple of ads before Casablanca flickered to life on the screen. The black-and-white images danced before us and I gave Jake a look. “It’s in black and white?” I asked with uncertainty.

  He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, Addison, you’ll survive.” He set the popcorn off to the side and shifted closer, putting his arm around me.

  I snuggled up to him and tried to hide my apprehension. I could feel Jake’s warm breath against my ear and turned slightly to look at him. His blue eyes gazed at me warmly and I suddenly felt very unsure of myself. “Did you know that all blue-eyed people are descended from one common ancestor who had a genetic mutation?” I blurted out. Oh my God, what are you talking about?

  Jake gave me an amused smile. “I did know that.”

  “Did you also know that blue eyes are more sensitive to light than darker-colored eyes? It’s because they don’t have as much melanin.” Thank you freshman science class! I swallowed hard.

  Jake nodded his head, his eyes latching onto mine, then he leaned in closer, making me feel warm all over. “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”

  “Wh-what?” I whispered, completely confused.

  Suddenly, his lips met mine and our mouths moved tentatively, exploring one another. “Is this okay?” he asked, touching his forehead to mine.

  I felt my heart rate quicken and inche
d closer toward him, our mouths meeting again. Jake kissed me slowly, bringing his hand up to the side of my face, and I wrapped my arm around his neck, tangling my hand in the back of his hair—Casablanca a distant memory.

  I never did find out if Ilsa and Rick ended up together.

  Chapter Eleven

  After our first official date, Jake and I spent as much time together as we could. We fell into a comfortable pattern of getting together after he finished work during the week and making plenty of time for fun on the weekends.

  I introduced him to a secluded location on the beach—a spot rumored to harbor the occasional skinny-dipper—and we would park there for hours, watching the gentle waves of the lake and talking about everything, from our very different childhoods to plans for the future. We began to call it “our spot,” and it felt like a secret only the two of us shared.

  July rolled in with the usual festive cookouts and get-togethers, and I invited Jake to every single one. He happily accepted my invitations and easily fit into my circle of friends, as though he had been there all along.

  Predictably, Ruby decided to run for Strawberry Queen at the annual Lakeside Strawberry Festival. She wanted to follow in her mother’s footsteps, and Mrs. Sinclair couldn’t have been more proud. Ruby was worried sick about winning the title, but I knew all along she had it in the bag. She was everything a Strawberry Queen should be—smart, pretty, charismatic. And her parents owned half the town, which didn’t hurt her chances, either.

  I was thoroughly enjoying the lazy pace of summertime, my last summer as a high school student, just as I promised myself I would. Admittedly, I was enjoying the company I was keeping even more. I felt myself growing fonder of Jake with each passing day, and whenever the thought of him returning to college arose, I firmly pushed it into the back of my mind. I just couldn’t bear to think about it.

  My parents, surprisingly, seemed to warm quickly to the idea of Jake and me being together. With the exception of the sex talk the night of our first date, my mom accepted the fact that we were dating and she played the gracious hostess every time Jake came to the house. Dad, on the other hand, was the biggest surprise, maybe because he had gotten to know Jake on a different level because of working together at the farm, but he welcomed him as if he were extended family. I knew they shared a great deal of respect toward one another, and I guess that’s why it was easy for Dad to understand my attraction toward him.

  I couldn’t get over all of the new emotions I was experiencing. Jake was the first boy who had ever sparked such strong feelings, and sometimes, they were too much to deal with on my own. To make sense of it all, I turned to Mags for support. I admired her so much as a person and respected her opinion of my very first grown-up relationship. I continued to help her out every day at the farm, although I’d given up assisting with early-morning breakfasts. No one should have to wake up at that hour. I used my time there to give her the third degree.

  “So, you really think Jake’s nice, Mags?”

  “I really do,” she answered, smiling.

  “Do you think he’s cute?”

  “I think he’s very cute.”

  “And you think he’s a good person?” I shamelessly prodded.

  “I think if he wasn’t a good person, you wouldn’t like him so much,” she wisely advised. “You’re a smart girl, Addy. You need to trust your instincts. What do you think about him?”

  “I think he’s amazing,” I sighed. I felt like a babbling idiot! What was Jake doing to me?

  Mags laughed. “You two make a cute couple.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. It was the first time anyone had referred to us out loud as a couple. Suddenly, it all felt so real.

  Mags must have recognized the look of panic in my eyes. “Addy, everyone falls in love for the first time, eventually. And when it’s true love, you just know. It will feel right. Now it’s your turn to experience it. In my humble opinion, you couldn’t have chosen more wisely. Jake is a wonderful boy.”

  But I had already tuned her out.

  Love? was that what this was? The constant flip-flops in my stomach? Lying awake at night thinking about him? The stupid grin I couldn’t wipe off my face?

  Me, Addison Monroe—in love?

  * * *

  “You’re what?” Ruby shrieked as we lay in chaise lounge chairs next to her pool.

  “In love,” I said, looking around nervously. I wasn’t interested in broadcasting my news to the whole world. “At least Mags seems to think so.”

  “Well, what do you think?” she asked me wide-eyed.

  I shook my head and gave her a shrug. “Love is a strong word. I’m not sure what to think. I do know that I’ve never felt this way before.”

  “I can’t believe you’re in love!” she sighed. Listening was never Ruby’s strong suit.

  I rolled my eyes and decided not to argue. “Why not? You’ve been in love a million times.”

  “Yeah, but that’s me. You’re supposed to be the levelheaded one.” Ruby frowned. “So, now what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What happens when Jake goes back to Texas?”

  It was a topic I didn’t like to think about. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, taking a deep breath. “I guess I’m not going to take things too seriously. He’s here for the summer and then he’ll be gone,” I added, trying to sound nonchalant. But inside, my heart sank.

  Ruby shook her head emphatically. “I don’t know how you’re gonna do it. It’s a tragic love story—like a modern-day Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Let’s not get carried away! It’s just a simple summer fling.” I laughed at her analogy. “There will be no poison involved, I can promise you that.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to fall in love with ‘a simple summer fling,’” she retorted, bending her fingers in air quotes.

  I swallowed hard and reached for my glass of lemonade, attempting to look unaffected. I should have never even mentioned it. The best thing to do at this point was to distract Ruby and get her talking about herself.

  “So, what all do you have to do for this Strawberry Queen thing?”

  Ruby sat upright and her expression turned animated. “Can you believe I have to have a talent?”

  Distraction successful.

  I stifled a laugh. As smart and pretty as she was, Ruby was known for her lack of coordination.

  “Maybe I should dance?” she suggested.

  The thought of Ruby cutting a rug was too much. “Ruby! You have two left feet!” I giggled. “After you and Eric went to prom last year, he said his toes felt broken from you stepping on them so much.”

  Ruby looked at me through narrow slits. “He was exaggerating.”

  “I don’t think he was. I was there, remember? He limped for a week.”

  She let out a dramatic sigh. “All right then, maybe I could sing?”

  Slowly, I shook my head. “Remember in sixth grade when you tried out for Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz? It didn’t go so well.”

  Ruby blushed at the embarrassing memory. “Okay, maybe singing’s not such a good idea either. God, Addy! What am I going to do?” she asked dramatically. “The pageant is next week! If I can’t find a talent, I’m going to have to drop out.”

  I racked my brain trying to come up with a solution. “What did your mom do when she tried out for queen?”

  Squinting from the sun’s bright rays, Ruby lifted a hand to shield her eyes. “She had a ventriloquist’s dummy.”

  I wasn’t sure I heard her right. I just couldn’t picture Mrs. Sinclair playing with a puppet!

  “What?” I questioned. “Are you sure?”

  Ruby rolled her eyes. “Yes, she performed with it all three years she tried out. And she was crowned queen every single time.”

  I raised my eyebrows in disbelief but a plan was already forming. “Does she still have the puppet?”

  Shrugging, she answered, “I think so. I remember seeing it a few years ago in t
he attic. Why?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Just hear me out before you say anything, all right?”

  Ruby stared at me with a painful expression on her face.

  “Your mom won Strawberry Queen three years in a row, right?”

  She nodded her head. “You know she did. She tells us that story every single summer.”

  I ignored her impatient tone and continued. “And didn’t she say the pageant judges told her a few years ago that no other Strawberry Queen had ever compared to her?”

  “Yes. They said no reigning queen has even come close to beating my mom’s record of community service hours. Plus, they still rant over her talent act. Apparently it was the first and only time they ever had a ventriloquist on the stage.” Ruby ran a hand through her long blond hair. “What’s your point, Addy?”

  “My point is, the judges remember your mom fondly—which means they’re probably excited you’re trying out,” I explained. “What if you borrowed your mom’s dummy and performed as a ventriloquist? I think it would go over really well.”

  I studied Ruby’s face as she pondered my suggestion. I had to admit it, the idea was genius. Now I just needed to convince Ruby.

  “That is so random! Besides, I’m not a ventriloquist. I don’t know the first thing about talking to a puppet,” she wailed.

  “Come on! I’m sure your mom would be happy to teach you what she knows. Plus, she’d be flattered. And I bet the judges would be thrilled. Remember, they are the ones you’re trying to impress. You’ll probably win just because you carried on your mother’s tradition. Old people love that sorta stuff.”

  Ruby still looked unsure, but I could see her wheels spinning.

  “I think my mom still has the scripts she used. Maybe I could get ideas from those?”

  “Absolutely!” I encouraged. “Besides, what are your other options?”

  Ruby looked at me and smiled in relief. “I’m going to do it!” She jumped up and gave me a hug. “You and Jake will be there, right? I can’t do it if you’re not there for me!”

  I untangled myself from her arms. “Of course we’ll be there. You’re going to be amazing!”

 

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