Strawberry Wine

by Darly Jamison

  Searing pain traveled from my ankle up through my leg, forcing my knee to buckle. Jake caught me in his arms and I fell against him. Again. My eyes flew to his face as his expression grew more concerned than before.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine. Really.” It did hurt. A lot. But I wasn’t about to admit that to him. Just walk it off. No big deal. I stepped away from him, but the burning twinge tore through my ankle, crippling my ability to stand. Once more, his arms reached out toward me, catching me under my arms before I hit the ground. “I can do this,” I said, attempting to push him away. Visions of him coming to my rescue all those years before swam before me, and I didn’t want him to think I was still that same helpless girl, always in need of a knight in shining armor for protection. I stumbled slightly, trying to stand tall.

  “You are hurt. Addison . . .” I heard him sigh. “Why are you being so stubborn?” he asked, swinging one arm down under my knees and lifting me up.

  I gasped. “Jake—it’s just my ankle! Seriously, I have another one. What’re you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m carrying you, at least until we get to solid ground. Then we’ll see how you do on your own. There’s no way you can walk with that ankle through these mounds of uneven soil.”

  As he began to make his way toward the parking lot, I felt the definition of strong, lean muscles moving underneath his button-up shirt, and a shock of tingles ignited in my center, just as electrifying as they had been when I was eighteen years old. He carried me through the field, not stopping until his feet touched the pavement. Very gently, he set me down. I wobbled slightly but was able to stand on my own through the pain.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, watching me doubtfully through long, black eyelashes. “Do you want to get it checked out?”

  I swallowed hard. “It’s tender but I’ll be fine. Just an inversion, I imagine. All I need is some rest and ice.” Glancing over my shoulder, I searched for the back entrance of the funeral home planning my escape, but my heart beat wildly in my chest and I wondered how likely I would be to manage a quick getaway in my disadvantaged state. “Thank you for helping me. I’m going inside now.” Turning away from him, I swiveled on my good leg and began the long trek back.

  “Do you think you can walk, or do you want me to carry you?” he asked, following close behind.

  I hobbled slowly, biting my lip to keep from crying out. “I can do it, thanks.”

  “You really don’t look like you can. At this rate it’ll take you all day to make it inside.” His Texas twang was subtle but I heard it, bringing a rush of goose bumps up my arms.

  I stopped walking and glared. “I said I’m fine. I can walk there on my own.”

  Jake’s eyes danced with amusement. “Okay,” he said, holding up his hands in defense. “Whatever you say. You’re the boss.”

  Taking a deep breath, I started moving again. I could feel Jake close by, the heat of his body mingling with mine. Just keep going, get back inside. I’ll feel better once I’m there. But with each step I felt my walls beginning to crumble, and by the time I made it to the center of the parking lot, visions of Mags lying in the casket invaded my mind and a spark of panic slid along my nerves. The humid afternoon air wrapped around me, making me dizzy, and my stomach twisted with a sour sensation. I brought my hand to my head, pushing it roughly through long hair.

  “Addison, are you sure you’re okay?”

  Stopping suddenly, I dropped my gaze to the sun-beaten pavement. “No,” I whimpered quietly.

  “I can carry you again. Just until we get inside.”

  My eyes swept up, searching his face, taking in the concern etched deep into his expression. “No. You don’t understand. I can’t go back in there. I can’t look at her in the casket. I just can’t do it again.”

  A frustrated gasp escaped from my lips as I covered my face with my hands. Deep sobs shook my shoulders, and before I knew it I was wrapped in Jake’s arms. Silently, I cursed myself. I knew once the dam broke it would be impossible to repair, which was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to cry in the first place.

  “How about we go somewhere else?” he suggested softly, his lips nearly brushing the tip of my ear.

  Wiping my tears, I nodded against his chest. Jake hoisted me up into his arms and carried me through the parking lot to a brand-new Ford truck parked near the entrance. It was sleek and shiny, and black all over, a far cry from the rusty vintage model he’d driven years before.

  He set me down and opened the passenger door, then helped me slide inside, his hand brushing against me as he buckled the seat-belt across me. My senses went into overdrive at the touch of his hand, every nerve ending feeling as if it was on fire. I sniffled loudly after he closed the door, running my fingertips across tear-soaked cheeks before he came around to the driver’s side. My eyes traveled to a well-worn cowboy hat sitting next to me, and a picture of Jake from all those years before jolted through my mind. My lips parted as my breath hitched unexpectedly.

  Jake settled in and gripped the wheel tightly, the knuckles of his fingers turning momentarily white. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him stare straight ahead before turning to me. “Addison, are you certain you want to leave? I hate to think you’ll regret this later.”

  Was he second-guessing his invitation for my sake or for his? I drew in a deep breath and swiveled my eyes toward him. “I’m positive. Seeing her like that was so much harder than I thought it would be.” I shook my head and sniffled again, my hair falling across my cheek. “I just need more time. I’m giving the eulogy tomorrow.” Oh, good Lord, I’m giving the eulogy tomorrow.

  “You are?” he asked, his voice laced with surprise. “Are you sure you’re up for it?” Without warning, he slowly leaned toward me, and I felt my heartbeat race. His face was inches away from mine, so very close.

  I closed my eyes and held my breath, waiting to feel the tips of his fingers against my skin, just as he’d done in the field when he brushed aside my hair. But the touch never came.

  Confused, I opened my eyes and was surprised to find those fingers in the glove box, pulling out a small package of tissues. He handed them to me and nodded his head, his eyes steady as they fixed on mine. “Here you go.”

  Air punched out of my lungs as I took the tiny rectangular packet. “Um . . . thank you,” I finally answered. My fingers fumbled over the wrapping until I managed to slide out a cotton square. I touched it to my eyes, then pressed it under my nose, and before I could stop, my mouth began to move, the first thought that came to my mind rambling its way out. “Today took me by surprise, that’s all. I’ve been so busy with arrangements, it’s like the news hasn’t sunk in. But tomorrow it’ll be better, I’ll be prepared. I know I will be.” I nodded, trying to convince him—or maybe I was trying to convince myself.

  “I hope so.” And the way he said it told me he meant it. “So, where would you like to go?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  Jake thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Would you like to get a drink? I think you could use one.”

  A drink before noon? I hadn’t done that since college. “Sounds perfect.”

  He buckled his seat belt and put the truck in reverse, backing it up until he could pull out. When he turned onto the road, I unzipped the small purse I wore across me, taking out my cell. “Don’t you have to let someone know you’re leaving?” I asked, wondering if his wife would mind him taking off.

  Jake threw me a sideways glance before moving his eyes to the rearview mirror. “I’ll call my aunt and uncle in a bit. They weren’t ready to leave, so I drove separately. But you should let someone know you’re gone.”

  I held up my cell. “I was just going to text my mom.”

  We held each other’s gaze for a moment before his eyes shifted back to the road. Turning on my phone, I scrolled through for Mom’s number and jotted down a quick message. Mo
m, everything’s fine, I just can’t do it today. Seeing her in the casket took me by surprise. Don’t worry, I’m okay. I’ll call you later. Love, Addy.

  Before I could tuck my phone away, Mom responded. It’s okay, Addy. I understand. Just take some time. I love you.

  Pushing the phone back into my purse, I zipped it closed and leaned back in my seat, watching out the window as we drove through town. People were scattered about, carrying on as if life hadn’t changed. Only it had. For me, anyway.

  Lakeside had expanded over the years. It was just as quaint and charming as it had been before, yet the growth of the economy was evident by the new buildings and businesses that comprised the town. The city was booming, in more ways than one. In addition to businesses, families were drawn to the comfort of country living, planting their roots in the rich Southern soil.

  All my life I’d been waiting for the day I could escape from my childhood to enter the realm of being an adult—as if going to college made a person an adult. And when that time came I ran as fast as I could toward a bigger and more exciting life in the city. Yet every time I came home to the place I’d grown up, I found an odd comfort driving through the streets, breathing in the new details of a place that felt older than time.

  My eyes moved to my ankle, which throbbed, the pain pulsating down my foot, and I noticed it was beginning to swell. I turned my head slightly to study Jake’s profile.

  The years had been kind to him, that was for sure, but I could see changes now I hadn’t noticed before. He’d matured over the years, the sharp angles of his face more defined than before. His nose was straight, his mouth full and soft, and his jaw chiseled, settled into a determined position. But his confidence hadn’t changed, and neither had the charm that seeped from him. If anything they were stronger than before, but natural, as if he didn’t know any other way. The expression on his face was rigid and controlled; it was an expression that had caught my breath time and time again, and I found it happening now.

  He wore comfortable khakis and a white collared shirt, a burgundy tie fastened around his neck. On his feet were brown leather boots, similar to the ones he wore when we were younger, only these appeared new, not as well-worn as the ones from before.

  His wife must have stayed in Houston. After all, why would she want to come to a tourist town to sit at the funeral of a woman she’d never even met?

  Neither one of us spoke until the truck turned into a gravel driveway. “How’s this?” Jake asked, pulling up to an old building on the edge of town. “Looks like the only bar open this early.”

  “Mad Horse Brewing Company,” I said, reading the red neon sign out loud. “This used to be a horse stable; I remember my mom telling me about it. I can’t believe I never came by to check it out.”

  “Well, it is a bit out of the way.”

  The parking lot was nearly empty as Jake pulled his truck into the spot closest to the entrance. He killed the engine and hopped out, coming around to my side and opening the door. I unbuckled the belt and slid away from my seat, carefully landing on the gravel below. Jake snaked his arm around my waist, helping alleviate the pressure of my weight as he opened the front door. Country music blared from an ancient jukebox, and one patron sat bellied up to the bar.

  “We just opened up. Seat yourselves,” the lady behind the bar called out, barely looking up from the drink she was mixing for her only customer.

  As Jake guided me to a table in the back, my eyes wandered around the rustic decor, taking in the exposed wooden frame outlining the establishment. The white walls contrasted against the reclaimed woodwork, and the soft lighting wrapped around the scenic pictures of Lakeside throughout. “This is amazing,” I said as I settled into the seat Jake pulled out for me.

  His gaze drifted across the walls of the tavern, landing on something behind me. “Is that what I think it is?”

  When I turned around, my eyes fixed on a large piece of black-and-white artwork hanging on a wall near our table. I followed the lines and curves of the dirt road leading up to a rural barn positioned at the end. “That’s my grandparents’ barn. I can’t believe I didn’t know about this.”

  “That there’s the Monroe family farm,” came a raspy, female voice. We turned and found the woman who was behind the bar standing at our table holding two menus. “It’s about six miles south of here and is one of the oldest farms in the area.” She placed the menus on the table, then moved her gaze from the picture on the wall back to me. “You just passin’ through town? I don’t reckon I’ve seen you two in here before.”

  “I used to live here when I was younger. I moved to Atlanta several years ago.” I glanced at Jake sitting across from me, his eyes holding me as he watched me speak. “That’s my grandparents’ barn,” I said, nodding toward the framed photo.

  Her deep-set eyes widened. “Henry and Maggie are your grandparents? Well, I’ll be a son of a gun!” Her weather-lined face released a sympathetic smile. “Then you must be here for your grandma’s funeral. I sure am sorry to hear about that. Maggie was one helluva lady.” The woman shook her head sadly. “Ya just never know when your time’s up.”

  Dragging my eyes away from Jake, I gave her a small smile. “I guess not.”

  “So, you must be Addy, then? My God, I haven’t seen you in years. You’re all grown up! You probably don’t remember me. I knew you when you were just a tot. My name’s Nell Hartley. I used to sing with your grandma in the church choir. I moved to Alabama for a while, came back a few years ago after my husband died. Didn’t see the point in stayin’ after he was gone. My heart’s always been in Lakeside, anyway.”

  Her name wasn’t familiar, but I didn’t tell her that. “It’s nice to see you again.”

  She nodded, then turned toward Jake. “And this young man must belong to you,” she said, eyeing him with appreciation. “I’ll tell ya what, they sure do know how to grow ’em in Atlanta.”

  I bit my lip, trying to hide a smile. “This is Jake Grady. His aunt and uncle are John and Kathy Grady.”

  The woman’s smile widened. “Ya don’t say! Well, I know them, too. Very fine people. Ya know, that’s what I love about livin’ in a cozy little town. Everybody knows everybody else. And if ya don’t know what you’re doin’, someone else surely will,” she added with a wink. She turned back to me. “I’ll be stoppin’ by the funeral home after my shift tonight. I really am sorry to hear about Maggie. She’s goin’ to be missed.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Now, enough with the chitchat. What can I get for you two?”

  “I’ll have a glass of white wine,” I said, looking up at her. “Whatever you have, I’m not picky.”

  “Well, in that case, how would ya like to try our strawberry wine? Just got a new order in from the vineyard down the way.”

  My eyes swiveled toward Jake as a slow burn made its way across my cheeks. I couldn’t drink strawberry wine without remembering that afternoon so long ago, and judging from the look on his face now, he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Sure, why not?”

  She turned to him. “And what’ll it be for you, handsome? Can I interest you in some strawberry wine, too?”

  Jake laughed and leaned back in his chair. He lifted his hand to his forehead, pushing away a wave of dark hair. “I’ll just have a beer. Whatever you recommend, I’m not picky either.” He gave me a look that sent a shiver to my core. “Could you also bring a bag of ice? Addison here twisted her ankle.”

  “Is that so?” She turned to me with an arched eyebrow. “You got it,” she said then walked away, hot pink cowboy boots clicking against the hardwood floor.

  Avoiding his gaze, I watched the waitress, averting my eyes only after she disappeared from sight. Without thinking, I picked up a menu and tried to look through it, realizing then that my hands were shaking.

  “How long are you in town for?” he asked with a slow drawl.

  “I’m leaving on Thursday.” I paused, my eyes still buried in the menu. “What a
bout you?”

  He was quiet for a moment before answering. “Same here. Are you hungry?”

  I lifted my eyes to find him watching me. I’d barely eaten that morning, but no way would I be able to eat now. “Not really, just looking.”

  We were quiet for several minutes while I looked over the food options, unable to make out any of the words in front of me. Finally, I set it down, placing my hands in my lap so he couldn’t see them quiver. “So, how have you been, Jake?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  “I’ve been real good. Keeping busy.” He folded his hands in front of him, and I noticed he did not wear a wedding ring.

  I felt my eyebrows crinkle slightly and looked up at him. “Aren’t you married?” I bit my lip again, unable to believe the question had escaped from my mouth.

  Something flickered in his eyes. “I almost got married once, a few years back, but in the end I couldn’t go through with it. It didn’t feel right, somehow.”

  His gaze latched onto mine as a slow ache built low in my stomach. I couldn’t understand how this man had managed to stay single all these years . . . even with the beautiful Tamara WhatsHerName waiting to claim him.

  “What about you, Addison? Are you married?”

  Unease pricked at my skin as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ice-blue ones sitting across from me. “I’m engaged,” I finally choked out. My shoulders tensed as I watched him take in the words. Was there a remote possibility he still might be interested, even after the way I had ended things before? If he was, the look on his face gave nothing away. Ha, don’t fool yourself! He probably hasn’t thought of you in years.