the God I’ve been taught to fear.
“God is love,” she said. “And He
respects love, whether it’s between
a parent and child, a man and woman,
or friends. I don’t think He cares
about religion one little bit. Live your
life right, Pattyn. Love with all your
heart. Don’t hurt others, and help
those in need. That’s all you need
to know. And don’t worry about
Heaven. If it exists, you’ll be welcome.”
I hope God respects how I feel
about Ethan. Because I love him
more than anything, even life itself.
Having Decided That
I was all smiles when he came
over the next morning, pickup
packed and readied for the trip
to Beaver Dam State Park.
It’s gonna be hot as blazes,
Ethan said. Grab your swimsuit.
Swimsuit? Good Mormon
girls kept their clothes on. Of
course, I wasn’t exactly good,
and maybe I wasn’t Mormon.
Ethan must have read my mind.
I promise to be a gentleman.
Fact was, I didn’t even own
a swimsuit. No tanks,
definitely no bikinis. “I…
I forgot to bring mine.”
Ethan smiled. No problem.
We can go in our underwear.
I wasn’t sure about that,
wasn’t sure I wanted to reveal
so much skin—chalk white,
except for the arms and legs.
Ethan lifted me up into the truck.
Let’s go. It’s a long drive.
Not so far, distance-wise,
only around thirty-five miles. But
most of that was gravel road,
and slow, bumpy traveling.
I’m glad you’re feeling better
today. I was worried.
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I don’t
know why I got so upset.
Half of me feels so together,
the other half so confused.”
Confused about what,
Pattyn? Me?
“Not about loving you, Ethan.
Just about what that means.”
Did it mean damnation?
Happily ever after?
Ethan Was Right
It was hot as blazes.
By the time we reached the lake,
around noon, the temperature
had soared well into the nineties.
The lake was blue and very small,
too small for boats, so it wasn’t
nearly as crowded as I’d expected.
We found a secluded place to park,
hiked up under a thick stand of trees,
and spread a thick blanket
on a pine-needle carpet.
Ethan opened an ice chest
filled with soda and beer.
I could have chosen Coke.
I didn’t.
Beer had never been my favorite,
but it tasted fine, ice-cold,
on such a torrid day.
Only one problem—I had
skipped breakfast. Before I knew
it, my head felt full of bubbles
and my tongue five inches thick.
Not that Ethan hadn’t brought
food. He had—huge deli sandwiches,
carbs and protein to fend off
any impending hangovers.
But that day, that hour, that moment,
a blossoming buzz felt too great
to fight with food.
So When Ethan Suggested Swimming
I didn’t hesitate to sprint down to the water’s
edge. The sun attacked and my head spun
and the sand threatened to blister my
feet and it all encouraged me to
shed every stitch and dive
into the cold, clear water.
I didn’t think to do a toe
test and surfaced, sputtering.
Ethan laughed and caught me in
goose-bump-covered arms, hugging
me close. All hints of self-consciousness
dissolved, and my nakedness felt delicious
wrapped in Ethan’s water-chilled skin. I love
you, he said, and I don’t know what that
means either, only that you’re the most
important thing in my life. And I
don’t want to be without you.
Then he kissed me with
a passion he’d not before
revealed. I tasted heaven. No
doubt of this heaven, no worries
about which kingdom I’d attained,
only the certainty that heaven, indeed,
existed, right there in our perfect union.
No, We Didn’t Make Love
Right there in the water,
but we did merge
in a powerful way.
That connection, skin
to skin, no barriers, touched
brain as much as body.
It was more than a physical
awakening, more than
the pulse of human closeness.
Ethan felt like part of me,
something that couldn’t
be excised without bleeding.
Our love was beginning
to feel like “forever” love,
a love to carry to the grave.
And, buzzed as I was,
I knew in my heart
it wasn’t just the beer talking.
People Walked By
And I could sense their eyes,
trying to pry beneath the water.
I didn’t care one bit if they managed
to see some forbidden something.
When they were out of sight,
Ethan and I dashed for our clothes.
He put on his boxers, I put on my long
T-shirt, nothing more except sandals.
Cool and wet, we wandered back
to our blanket, hand in hand.
We both had another beer, thinking
we should postpone the inevitable.
Finally, I flopped down on my back,
inviting his kiss…and more.
If I kiss you, I won’t want to stop,
don’t know if I could.
“I know, Ethan,” I whispered, scared
and excited and uncertain and not unsure at all.
And so he kissed me, everywhere,
making me want to say yes even more.
And he wanted me, too, and he showed
me how to make him want me more.
It all felt so right, so how it should
be, that I begged him not to stop.
But he paused, long enough to find
the protection he’d brought along.
While I waited, every nerve shouted
out to be pacified. And when he did…
I Cried
It wasn’t that it
hurt
because, except
for a brief flash of
pain
it all felt perfectly
wonderful, perfectly
right.
Our bodies meshed,
one, incredibly
in sync.
In Ethan’s arms,
I knew no
fear,
in this ultimate act
of giving, no
foreboding.
I cried for what
I had
lost,
my best-kept
secret,
given away.
I cried for what
I had
gained,
the knowledge
of Eden, irrevocably
learned.
In the Aftermath
I lay shivering
, bathed
in oppressive heat.
Ethan’s promises soothed,
every syllable sweet.
He held me tightly,
as if he thought I’d flee.
But I could never run
fast enough to break free
of the demon I’d unleashed.
I loved Ethan just as much as
I had a few minutes before.
In the light of what we’d shared,
perhaps I loved him more.
But when I closed my eyes
I didn’t see Ethan’s face.
Another silhouette appeared
in that dark and dappled space.
It resembled my father.
A Couple More Beers
Made Daddy’s face disappear,
but mostly because the rest of the day
is pretty much a blur.
We took another icy dip,
washing away evidence.
Still, I didn’t feel exactly clean.
Ethan insisted I try some lunch,
great deli sandwiches
that tasted like cardboard.
Then we settled down beneath
low, lacy branches for a nap
before driving home.
I woke, minus the buzz, plus
a pounding headache. In fact, I ached
in places I never knew could ache.
Yet there was Ethan, beside me,
looking more incredibly beautiful than ever.
He whispered a drowsy I love you.
And I settled into his arms, minus
the buzz, plus a pounding headache, and I
said, “Make love to me.”
Journal Entry, July 3
Okay, we did it. Ethan and I
made love. Twice. The first
time it kind of hurt, and maybe
I had too much beer to really
understand what a big step
it was. Huge.
Nothing can ever again be
exactly the same.
The second time it was better,
even if I didn’t feel so hot.
(My first hangover—ugh!)
Ethan is so gentle, so caring.
Derek would have attacked,
done the deed, and disappeared.
I’m so glad it was Ethan.
There were a couple of bad
moments—I’ll be sore for days.
And tonight the guilt train
is rolling right across my brain.
When we came through the door,
Aunt J took one look and I swear
she knew the whole score.
That woman is psychic! Or maybe
our body language gave it away.
I’m not worried about Aunt J.
But Dad is a whole other story.
The Fourth of July
Dawned warm and bright.
I stayed late in bed, covers kicked
off, not asleep but thinking
about the day before.
Where did it leave Ethan
and me? Would we have to
make love every time we
saw each other?
Maybe I wanted that? I
did and I didn’t. I mean,
I didn’t want that to become
all we were about.
And yet part of me wanted
to fall right back into his arms,
to let him carry me up and away
over that sensual rainbow.
I was more confused than ever.
More in love than ever.
More worried than ever about
what would happen if
and/or when my parents found out.
Only a tiny fraction of me worried
about God. It was way too late
to stress over His judgment now.
Eventually
Aunt J called me downstairs.
If she was, indeed, suspicious,
she never said a word. Instead
she asked, How about helping
out with the pie baking?
There’s something therapeutic
about cutting shortening into
flour, rolling the dough into
thin rounds, then slicing
apples and peaches,
adding sugar and cornstarch
and pinches of spices until
all those basic ingredients
become perfect brown pies,
cooling on the kitchen counter.
Aunt J and I worked for three
hours, talking and laughing
and fighting sweat in the
gathering heat, half oven,
half July, come to call.
Finally, she ventured, Looks
like you and Ethan are getting
serious. He’s a fine young man,
Pattyn. Still, I am ultimately
responsible for how things
turn out. I hope you know
that I’ve come to love you
like my own daughter. I
don’t want to see you hurt.
It Was a Stunning Admission
For a woman of few words,
a woman who let her eyes
say what her lips often wouldn’t.
Her admission deserved
my own, “I love you, too,
Aunt J. And I love Ethan.”
I know you do, little one.
And I believe he loves you.
If only love were enough…
“I wish I could promise
I won’t get hurt. I can’t. But
I have to take that chance.”
She knew, too well,
the probable consequences
if it all came crashing down.
“Aunt J, I’ve begged for love
for seventeen years. Without you,
I would never have found it.”
God knows I would like to believe
otherwise. If ever a child
deserved love, it’s you, Pattyn.
“Well then…” I smiled. “Looks
like we’re on the same page.
Because you deserve love too.”
We hugged, passing a jolt
of love between us, then
went back to our baking.
Once the Chicken Was Fried
And the salads made, Aunt J
and I went upstairs to change.
She spent a long time
in the bathroom, washing
and plaiting her long copper
hair and—I noticed when
she finally reappeared—applying
a ladylike amount of makeup.
She had chosen to wear a yellow
sundress, which showed off
her tanned, muscular arms
and hugged her bodice tightly.
In cutoffs and a pink tank top,
I was definitely outclassed,
and the way she smelled—
ginger and English lavender—
was enough to make any
cowboy swear off his herd.
Did she expect a special cowboy
at the evening’s festivities?
Independence Day
Is a big deal in Caliente.
Hard-working people,
ready to let down and
party, make for a rowdy
crowd. The drinking
and socializing start
early, go all day.
Aunt J and I got to the
park at about three P.M.,
lugging a big canopy,
baskets, and coolers,
filled with enough
food for twenty.
Ethan and his father
were due to arrive
anytime. While
we waited, we sat
tapping our toes
to live—and very
loud—country music.
I Finally Spotted Ethan
Weaving through the
crowd.
Beside him was a man who
could have been his brother, if not
for the salt-and-pepper hair.
Ethan’s father was every bit as
handsome as he was.
Every now and then, they’d
stop to talk to people they knew
and a couple of times fingers
pointed in our direction.
Small town, everyone knows
everyone, and where they’re sitting.
As they drew nearer, I noticed
Aunt J straighten her posture,
find her prettiest smile.
Ethan’s dad was her special
cowboy? Why had she never
mentioned anything?
Finally, they found their way
over to us. Ethan pulled
me to my feet, gave me a big
kiss, then introduced us.
Dad, this is Pattyn. You already
know her Aunt Jeanette.
I couldn’t have guessed
the drama that unfolded next.
But in retrospect, there had
been plenty of hints.
I’d just been so busy worrying
about myself that I never noticed.
Ethan’s Dad Gave Me a Hug
So glad to finally meet you, Pattyn.
Ethan talks about you all the time.
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