My Once and Future Love (7 page)

“Don’t
have
to be back until
September.”

I pulled my hand away. “I can’t stay that
long. My parents would never allow it.”

“You’re an adult, Beth. What can they
do?”

Grasping for straws, I said, “My Dad could
threaten to pull the plug on my tuition.”

He shook his head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know. My dad can hold a grudge a
long time. My brother left when I was eight, Jacob. He hasn’t been
back because Dad didn’t approve of what he wanted to do with his
life. Mom couldn’t bear losing both of her kids. I won’t do that to
her, not even for you.”

“Does that mean you’d never leave L.A.?”

“I…” I glanced away. “I don’t know. I don’t
know what’s beyond college.”

He touched my cheek. “With your grades, you
could go anywhere, you know.”

“What are you asking?”

“I’m not…I’m just sayin’ you shouldn’t be
afraid to explore your options. You’d survive your father’s
disapproval, Bethie.”

“Maybe.” A headache blossomed in the center
of my forehead. “God, you really can complicate things, Jacob.”

His kissed my head and hugged me, rubbing my
back. “I don’t mean to.”

I chuckled, because it was better than
crying. “I know.”

Thankfully, this wasn’t a busy street in the
middle of a work day. We would have been an odd sight, hugging on a
bicycle.

His shirt was damp under the jacket, the July
weather too hot for leather if he wasn’t at speed. I sat there
resting my chin on his shoulder until my butt started to go to
sleep on the seat. He released me when I loosened my arms.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked,
tucking my hair behind my left ear.

I shrugged. “I could use a laugh.”

He nodded his head to the motorcycle. “Hop
on. We’ll find a theater.”

“What about this?” I asked, patting the
handlebar.

“Stow it behind a bush. It’ll be fine.”

“That’s not right. I’m not ditching someone
else’s property.”

“Love, do you really want to ride all the way
back to the house first?”

“It’s your
mom’s
bike.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay,
okay… I’ll go get the car so I can pick you up.”

I nodded. “That’s fair.”

People and things were treated like I wanted
to be treated, which tended to be better than how most people I met
acted in return. Had a cousin I wouldn’t let touch my Barbies after
I saw what she did to hers. The memory
still
makes me
shudder, seeing all those poor dolls with missing heads or their
hair in tangles. Mom thought I had a problem with sharing, but that
wasn’t it—I had a problem with
chaos
, which any bit of
childish destruction was to me. I was the only kid I knew that
didn’t need to be told to clean her room, because it was never
messy.

He was a clutter slob—never filthy, but stuff
was just tossed anywhere. Hence the suggestion for the bicycle.

I pedaled faster this time, but he was still
there and back to me in around ten minutes. Boy had a lead foot. We
put the bike in the trunk, dropped it off at the house, and parked
the Jag.

“Do we have to take the bike?” I asked.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The car has air-conditioning and leather
seats that don’t hurt my butt.”

“Easier to find a parkin’ space with the
bike.”

I pouted. “So?”

“Fine,” he sighed. He rolled the motorcycle
into the garage. “But if we have to pay for a spot, it’s out of
your pocket.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I knew he secretly didn’t mind much. He only
rode the bike here for the cheap mileage and ability to get through
traffic.

“Whatever happened to your car when you
moved, anyway?”

“Sold it. Mum only let me live at the house
until I had stable work that summer.”

“Lucky for you it was only two years
old.”

He pulled out of the driveway. “Yeah. What do
you drive?”

“Dad’s car, when he’s away.”

“You’re going to university without a
car?”

“Yup. Living in the dorms was cheaper than
buying one. We aren’t made of money like some people.”

“Mum has the dosh, not me. Don’t even get my
trust fund ‘til I graduate.”

“You have a
trust fund
?” I shifted on
the seat to face him. “What else don’t I know?

He threw me a look. “It’s not a big deal,
alright? Just somethin’ my grandparents set up.”

“Wow. What were they like?”

“Very traditional, and very kind. They’ve
been gone a while.”

I laid my hand on his knee. “I’m sorry.”

“It was ten years ago, love. Didn’t know them
very well. As people.”

Understandable. I only knew certain things
about my grandparents from stories. “What about your dad’s
side?”

His smile faded. “Never met anybody.”

“Oh.” How sad
.
They’d missed out,
wherever they were. “So, when’s your next gig?”

“Saturday. And another on Sunday.”

“Same place?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Break a leg.”

He grinned, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Thanks.”

I faced forward again and watched the scenery
go by. It was so weird to be on the left side of the car and not
driving. We soon got into the metro part of London, heading in the
same direction as his apartment.

“Do you always drive toward home?” I
teased.

“I know the neighborhood.”

“I’m sure there’s a theater closer to your
mother’s place.”

He smiled. “Probably is.”

I shook my head. “And you called
me
a
creature of habit.”

“Bethie, someone could set a clock by you in
high school.”

“Hello, it’s a regimented schedule
every
body was on.”

“But you stuck to it with supreme
efficiency.” He parked the car. “Bet you couldn’t go
one day
without checking the time.”

“Just point me to my movie.”

We bickered over who would pay for the
tickets, then the snacks, then what
row
to sit in. I liked
the middle of the theater. He wanted the front or the very
back.

“
You
can sit there. I’m not
gonna.”

“Maybe I
will
,” Jacob said, and
sauntered down to the second row.

That lasted until the end of the previews,
when he got lonely. I grinned in triumph and gave him my “told you
so” look. He stuck his tongue out at me and stole the popcorn.

“Hey, give that back! You said you didn’t
want any.”

He popped a kernel in his mouth. “Changed my
mind.”

I grabbed the box. “Then get your own!”

“But the movie’s starting.” He stole a
handful this time.

I moved it to the empty seat next to me. “Not
my problem.”

“Brat.”

“Mooch.”

“
SHHHH!
” someone said behind us.

I turned around and mouthed “sorry.” Jacob
sat there smiling about getting me in trouble. I smacked his knee
and whispered “behave” at him. The second after I spoke the word, I
remembered it usually acted like the red flag waved in front of the
proverbial bull. From anyone except his mother, he took the order
as a dare. I hoped he’d be more interested in the movie this
time.

He let me enjoy the film, the only small
reminder things were different presenting in his arm being
stretched across the back of my chair. It was a fun cartoon. I
started to relax, and laugh, and felt on familiar territory for the
first time since flying over.

When it was time to leave, he took my hand in
the hallway. The gesture carried a lot of weight for me—one, he’d
never casually done it before in public; two, he’d only taken my
hand, not done something else more overt or possessive; and three,
holding hands was so
normal
. He opened my door for me when
we reached the car, kissed the hand he held, and walked around to
his side. I swooned at the sheer sweetness of it.

“Just in time for supper at Mum’s,” he said,
pulling the car into traffic.

“You’re hungry after all that candy?”

“Well,
yeah
. Growin’ boy, love.” He
winked.

“Pig.”

“Oink, oink.”

Vivian didn’t look surprised at all to see us
walk through the door together.

“I didn’t realize you two had plans today,”
she said.

“We didn’t. Jacob caught up with me when I
was out by myself.”

“And gave you a ride home? How sweet of you,
dear.”

“We saw a movie, Mum.” He started for the
kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”

She turned to me. “I took the liberty of
picking something up for you today, Elizabeth. It’s on your
bed.”

A present? “Wow, okay. What is it?”

“Go take a look. There’s time.”

“Um, thank you.” The kitchen door was closed,
so he couldn’t hear me. “Did you talk to Jacob about…?”

She shook her head. “Why? Did he say
something?”

“No. He was just…nice today. Less
intense.”

She smiled. “I haven’t said a word.”

Huh
.
“Oh. Okay, then.”

I excused myself to my room. A large, flat
box sat on my bed. The note on top said
for tomorrow night
.
That was odd—I didn’t have plans for tomorrow. I lifted the top off
to reveal folded-over tissue paper.

Wrapped in the tissue paper was a dress.
Lifting it out of the box, the length of the dress fell to the
floor. It was semi-formal, a simple sheath design in navy blue. I
held it up to my body in front of the full-length mirror. The hem
skimmed my ankles.

Not bad. Right in between drawing attention
to myself and embarrassing me. I might have chosen it in a store if
I could’ve afforded it.

“Try it on,” Vivian said behind me.

“Was I taking too long?”

She waved off the question. “No, I wanted to
see how you like it. Try it on tonight in case any alterations need
to be done.”

“It’s lovely, but…why?”

She shrugged. “Why not? Besides, what would a
visit to London be without attending a society party? I’d love to
have your company. It’s a good cause, but you have
no
idea
how much of a bore some of those people are.”

“Not seeing the incentive here,” I
teased.

“Did I not mention the five course meal?
Silly me.”

Thinking about it, I asked, “What’s for
dessert?”

“Something with far too many calories, of
course.”

“If it’s chocolate, you’ve got yourself a
deal.”

She laughed, her green eyes twinkling. “I’ll
try to find out.” She shooed me toward the bathroom. “Try on the
dress!”

“Okay, okay.”

I shed my clothes, unzipped the back of the
dress, and carefully stepped into it. It was sleeveless, so I got
the straps situated on my shoulders and reached my right arm behind
me to pull the zipper up. The fabric started to magically hug my
meager curves. A small slit in back made it easier to walk.
Glancing in the bathroom mirror, I almost didn’t recognize my
body.

“Whoa.”

“Does it fit? Come out and let me see.”

I smoothed the dress into place and walked
out to the bedroom.

“Oh, Elizabeth…” Vivian started to walk
around me. “I had a hunch this would be perfect.” She guided me to
the full-length mirror, then gathered my hair in her hands and
twisted it up off my neck. “Look at you. So grown-up.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.” The girl in the
mirror looked like a different person. She had
possibilities
.

“You like it, yes?”

“It’s amazing…” I tried to be an adult,
though I didn’t feel like one, yet, but Mirror-Beth
was
one.

Vivian smiled at me in the mirror. “Then
‘thank you’ is all I need. Change for dinner, now.”

“Okay.” I walked back into the bathroom and
heard her leave.

I wanted to call Mom. “Crap, it’s Thursday.”
I checked my watch. “She’s at ceramics class.”

Oh, well. I’d tell her all about the party
tomorrow.

After dinner, Vivian convinced Jacob to play
something on the piano. To my surprise, he took a random book out
of the bench seat, opened it to a page, and started playing like
he’d done it a hundred times. I watched his long fingers dance over
the keys and wondered what instrument he was really better
at—guitar or piano. We clapped when he finished the song.

“It’s been too long since I heard you play,”
his mother said fondly.

“That’s what you get for stayin’ in
California,” he teased.

“Perhaps it is time for a change,” she
said

“I didn’t know you’d taken lessons.”

“Started before the guitar, actually,” he
said. “And I’ve had to pick it up again at school.”

“You play very well.” Professional quality,
to my inexperienced ears.

He shrugged. “A little rusty, but it wasn’t
too bad.”

“Play Elizabeth some of the Gershwin.”

“Mother, I haven’t touched that piece in
almost four years.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” She added to me,
“He stole the recital with it, don’t believe any different.”

“I barely remember any of it. Request
somethin’ from this
decade
.”

She sighed. “And on that note, I’m going to
bed. Be good, kids, and turn out the lights tonight.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Goodnight, Vivian.”

Left alone, I moved closer to the piano
bench. He swung one leg over to straddle it and face me.

“How much longer are you staying?” He wrapped
his arms around my waist, resting them on my hips.

I sighed. “I don’t know…maybe make it an even
two weeks.”

“Any way I can convince you to stay
longer?”

“Oh,
that’d
go over well. ‘Hi, Dad,
I’m not coming home yet ‘cause Jacob and I wanna hang out.’”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. What would
justify it, then?”

Lowering my voice to mimic my father, I said,
“’Summers are for school or a job, same as the rest of the year.
Preferably both.’”