Authors: B.L. Teschner
He looked at the watch
on his wrist and checked the time. “Well, I gotta go help my
mom. I'll pick you up tomorrow; how does six sound?”
“
That sounds
great.”
I walked with him to
the entry way and opened the door for him to leave.
“
I had fun
today,” he told me as he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up
over his messy spikes.
“
Me too,” I
smiled.
“
I'll see you
tomorrow.” He smiled one last time before turning and walking
through the drizzle to his truck. Once he hopped inside he left his
door open so I could see him wave goodbye under the illuminating cab
light. I waved back, desperately wishing that I was leaving with him.
He shut his door and
the cab of his truck went to black. The monstrous engine came to life
as he turned the key and slowly backed out of my driveway, leaving me
hanging with the thought of our semi-close encounters that had taken
place that night.
I shut the door and
went to the kitchen to find my mom standing at the sink tearing the
husks off of cobs of corn.
“
Well, well,”
she began, “he sure is a strapping young man . . .”
“
Yes,” I
sighed, “he is.”
She picked up the pile
of shucked corn and tossed it into a deep pot of boiling water. “Do
you think he likes you yet?”
Her comment made me
laugh. “I wish I knew, Mom.”
I spent the next thirty
minutes helping her get dinner on the table. I made up a salad
complete with all the fixings: romaine lettuce, tomatoes, avocado,
green onion, shredded carrots, and a little bit of crumbled feta
cheese. My mom fried up some pork chops and drained the boiling water
from the corn.
Once we had everything
laid out on the table my dad came down and joined us. “Wow,
this looks fantastic,” he said with praise as he went to work
filling his plate.
“
Thank you,
honey,” my mom bubbled. “I'm glad you took a break and
let me cook tonight. It's been awhile; I don't want to get too rusty
at it.”
“
Oh, you can
never get rusty at anything,” he said while giving her a loving
wink.
She smiled at his
flirtation. “Oh you, stop that.”
“
Oh god,” I
mumbled through a mouth full of food.
She picked up an ear of
corn and pointed it at me. “You stop that too, missy. I see the
way you look at Jonah. Pretty soon you'll be flirting with him just
the way your father and I do. Pass the butter, please.”
I grabbed the tray
filled with the yellow oily spread, handing it to her across the
table with a roll of my eyes. “I already told you Mom, I don't
even think he likes me. Sometimes he acts like I have a disease or
something.”
“
Don't say that,”
my dad interrupted, upset that I would say such a thing about myself.
“Guys don't just spill their emotions out on the table like
women do.” His eyes cut over to my mom as soon as the sentence
left his mouth; he knew that last statement was a mistake.
“
Oh really?”
she blurted as she rolled her cob of corn over the stick of butter.
The gears in my dad's
head started moving as he thought of a way to backpedal away from his
comment. “You know what I mean, some men just aren't as open as
others. Maybe Jonah's more private about his feelings . . .”
Once the corn was
finished being buttered, she put it on her plate and picked up the
salt shaker, spreading a fine layer over the yellow kernels. It made
me think about how Jonah always over-salted his food.
Everything
made me think of him.
Since my dad was
getting a good talking to, I decided to turn the tables and give
her
a little talk. Her cob of yellow kernels was positioned in front
of her face as I shot her an irritated look. “Oh and by the
way, Mom,” I began my rant, “thanks for choosing to wear
your pajamas to meet Jonah.”
“
Well I'm sorry,
I just wasn't thinking.” The corn squeaked as she took a bite
out of it and sat it down on her plate. “What's with you today,
anyway? You aren't usually like this; you're so moody.”
I sat back in my chair
and felt a small twinge of guilt at what she had said. I knew I was
being moody, and I wasn't the type of person to care if she was
wearing pajamas to meet the guy of my dreams. It had just been a
really weird and confusing day for me.
When I looked up I
noticed her mildly hurt expression, so I leaned forward and reached
across the table, taking her hand in mine. “I'm sorry Mom, I
really am. I just have a lot on my mind. And your pajamas are fine; I
don't care if you were wearing them to meet Jonah, and I doubt he
cared either.”
She smiled at my
apology and squeezed my hand. “That's okay sweetheart. I just
want you to feel better.”
“
I will, I just
need to finish dinner and take a hot bath I think.”
“
That sounds like
a good idea.” She smiled again and gave my hand a squeeze
before letting it go.
After we ate I did what
I said I was going to do and walked up the soft carpeted stairs to
the bathroom for a bath. Jonah's confusing behavior that night had
really irked me, so I made the water as hot as I could stand it and
squeezed some shampoo under the forceful stream to fill the tub with
bubbles, creating a relaxing environment to clear my head in. But, as
much as his actions had rubbed me the wrong way he still held my
interest, and with every piece of my clothing that I removed I
imagined
his
hands peeling them off of me instead of my own.
The heat stung at my
skin as I slid down into the steaming tub and indulged underneath the
dancing bubbles. I dunked my head under the water and came back up,
slicking my hair back and resting against the smooth white porcelain.
The sharp tone of my
cell phone beeped and alerted me to a text message. It was still in
the pocket of my jeans that I had stripped off and laid on the floor,
so I sat up and reached over the side of the tub to grab them. When I
pulled my phone out I put in the password to unlock it and saw that
the text was from Jonah.
I had a lot of fun
today. I'm glad you got to throw
something at
Tommy. It was cool meeting your parents,
they are really
nice. I'm really looking forward
to tomorrow.
The giddy expression on
my face was enough to make me laugh at myself. I knew I had it bad
for him, so bad that even a simple text message affected me in ways I
never imagined it would.
I laid back against the
tub with my phone in my hands and thought about what to say back.
I'm looking
forward to having my ears blown out by your
sound system so
I can be deaf like you.
I laughed quietly at my
own joke. I really loved giving him a hard time, mostly because he
gave me a hard time a lot. It was something that we equally enjoyed
doing to each other.
A minute passed before
my phone beeped again.
It's going to
blow your mind.
“
What a dork,”
I chuckled as I teased him, as if he were there with me to hear it.
After a few more
minutes of soaking, I stood up from the water and grabbed a towel to
wrap around my bubble-covered body, securing it in front of my chest
by tucking the end between my decent volume of cleavage.
Beads of water dripped
off of the ends of my hair as I clutched my phone and walked down the
hallway to my room. Once inside I took off my towel and used it to
squeeze out the dampness from my blonde locks, and then I draped it
over my desk chair and crawled naked into bed with my phone to read
over Jonah's texts one last time as I relaxed underneath the warmth
of my comforter.
“
Man, he's sexy,”
I said quietly in the silence of my room. I rolled over and plugged
my phone into the charger, setting it gently on my nightstand.
“Tomorrow can't come fast enough.”
The next morning the
alarm on my phone chimed next to me and jolted me out of my deep
sleep. I reached over and slid my finger across the screen to put an
end to the annoying melody, and then threw back my fluffy blanket so
I could get out of bed.
I stood up and raised
my arms over my head, stretching my groggy body while breathing in
the sweet smell of my dad's cinnamon rolls baking downstairs. After
slipping on my robe I left my room and shuffled toward the heavenly
aroma.
“
Good morning,
Sugar Bean,” my dad called to me when he heard my heavy
footsteps on the stairs.
“
Good morning.”
I sat down at the
kitchen table and he turned around and faced me, holding a bright
yellow plate filled with his famous cinnamon rolls. “Look what
I made!” he chorused.
“
I know, I could
smell them all the way upstairs. They look amazing.”
He sat the plate on the
table in front of me and I immediately dove in. My dad's cinnamon
rolls were better than any bakery I had ever tried them at; I always
looked forward to devouring them.
The front door swung
open and my mom walked in holding the morning's newspaper. “Are
they ready?” she asked while strolling over to the table and
looking down at the headlines.
“
Yep, they're on
the table in front of Summer.”
She looked up from the
page and beamed warmly at me. “Good morning my beautiful
daughter! Are you ready for your date tonight?” She pulled out
the chair next to me and plopped down, grabbing a roll from the
plate.
“
Yep, I'm pretty
excited.”
“
I bet you are.
What time is he picking you up?”
“
Six.”
“
Well, you have
fun. Your dad and I are going to do some shopping today so I don't
think we'll be home by the time you leave. How late are you going to
be?”
I shifted in my chair
and popped the last bite of the cinnamon-flavored dough into my
mouth. “I'm not sure, but the concert doesn't get over until
around ten I think.”
“
Okay,” she
nodded, “just check in every couple of hours. Even a text
message will suffice.”
“
Yeah, I will.”
I covered my mouth and
yawned through the bits of food that were still left behind. She gave
me a squeeze on my robe covered arm and went back to reading the
paper.
Scooting my chair away
from the table I stood up with a stretch. “I'm gonna get in the
shower. Love you guys.”
My dad sat down with
his cup of coffee and smiled. “I love you, too.”
“
I love you,
sweetheart,” my mom added. “I can't wait to hear about
your date.”
* * *
I spent extra time in
the shower and made sure to get squeaky clean. I shaved my legs all
the way up to the top of my thighs, something I usually only did for
special occasions. When I got out I painted my toes and fingers and
mustered up the courage to wax my eyebrows.
When I was done with
the waxing I took a good look at myself in the mirror. The
honey-colored solution had done a good job taking care of the hairs
that I wanted gone, but I shrieked at the sight of the red strips of
swollen skin that were left behind.
Why did I do this
today?
I pulled out our bottle
of aloe and rubbed it on, hoping that it would soothe the freshly
waxed area.
I went to my room and
started rummaging through my closet to find something to wear to the
concert. I decided on my favorite pair of jeans, a tight number with
crystal bling on the back pockets. For a shirt I went with my black
lacy v-neck that had short sleeves.
As the day passed I
lounged around the house and waited for the clock to inch closer to
six o'clock. I decided that an hour was what I needed to get ready,
so when five o'clock came I began my beauty routine.
I put a little more
time into applying my makeup, this time adding some black eyeliner
and peach tinted lipstick. The last thing I did was put on mascara. I
ran the prickly brush along my lashes with my shaking hand, making
sure to extend them out as long as I could make them. Just as soon as
I thought I was finished I shook a little too much and hit my eyelid,
leaving behind a thick line of black.