As the last light faded from the sky, we saw headlights turn into the driveway that ran down the side of the barn.
“That’s my Mom,” I said finally breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us.
“Ok,” he answered. Standing up, he reached down and helped me to my feet. Still not speaking we went back to the ladder and climbed down. He walked me to the barn door, bent down and pressed his cheek to mine and whispered, “See ya later,” in my ear. I found myself unable to speak, yet again damn it, and opening the door went out to the car.
“How was Lil Miss today?” my mother asked.
“She was just fine,” I answered. I didn’t tell her anything about Jim, my first kiss or watching that spectacular sun set in way I had never watched the sun set before. I wasn’t ready to share just yet. Plus, being the ever negative person that I was, I didn’t want to tell in the event that I never saw him again. One can never tell you know. I shouldn’t have worried.
The next time I went to see my horse, he was there….and the time after that and the time after that. “How do you always know when I am here?” I asked him one day when he appeared about ten minutes after I had arrived.
“I live down the road knucklehead. You always show up at the same time so I watch for you. When you go by the house I head down here,” he told me.
“Awwwww…that’s sooo sweet…” I told him. “I can just imagine you watching for me out the window just like a cute, cuddly puppy with your tongue hanging out. That’s just tooo cute,” I teased him.
“Oh really?” he asked. “I am just THAT cute huh?” he said walking toward me. “Want to tell me how cute I am again?” he asked moving closer and closer. There was something about the way he was looking at me that told me I was in trouble, so I turned around and ran….and ran fast. Well, at least I THOUGT I was running fast. Turns out he could run waaayy faster than me.
Within about six strides he had caught me and scooped me up in his arms. I was delighted he had. It made me feel so petite. When your father tells you that you aren’t fat, but you ARE built like a “French shithouse,” feeling petite is something that doesn’t happen often. My delight however, was short lived. Walking to the front of the barn, he unceremoniously threw me into the watering trough which was nice and full of fresh, ice cold water. The cold water washed over my head and filled my nose and mouth. I hadn’t expected to get thrown in the tank. When I came up he was laughing and he was laughing very hard.
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” I yelled at him. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?”
Still laughing he asked, “Am I still cute?”
“Yeah your still cute!” I hollered. “But now you’re a cute asshole instead of just a cute guy!!!!”`
Laughing even harder, he came over to help me out of the trough. Not without a little payback though. When I was done splashing he was as wet as I was. “What am I going to do now?” I asked. “I don’t have any dry clothes here.”
“No problem,” he said shaking his head making water fly in every direction. The way he did that reminded me of how our dog did that every time we gave him a bath. This time I kept that thought to myself. One dunking a day was enough for me. ‘We’ll just go down to my house. My sister or my Mom will have something you can wear.”
I hadn’t even known that he lived right down the road until a few moments before and now he was telling me we were going there to change clothes. I knew he had a sister and a step brother that was older than him and I knew that his dad ran a sign shop from home, but I had never bothered to ask WHERE it was he lived. Now I was going to find out first hand.
Jim had a car, so we got in and went off down the road. It wasn’t the most impressive car I had ever seen or been in, but it beat a moped by a country mile so I kept my mouth shut. About a half mile down on the right hand side, stood a tri level house. The yard was trim and it had the look of a well kept home. “You live this close and you drive to the barn?” I asked him. “How lazy are you?
“Hmmmm…what can I throw you in this time?” he pretended to ask himself, his pointer finger tapping on his chin. “No barn, so no watering trough….hmmmm…what to do, what to do?
“If I threw you in a pool of water every time YOU got smart with me all you would do is swim!” I fired back.
“Very funny Carla,” he said . “Let’s go get dry…I’m getting cold.”
Getting out of the car, we went up the drive hand in hand. The front door opened and his mother came out on the step. She was an average height, weight woman with sandy blond hair. That surprised me because I had always envisioned Jim’s mother to be tan and dark like he was. While they had the same straight nose, their coloring was very different. ‘You must be Carla,” she said. Then immediately she asked, “What happened to you two?”
“I am Carla and HE happened to me,” I said pointing the finger of blame at her son.
“I didn’t do anything. SHE did it,” he responded pointing the finger of blame right back at me.
‘Well whoever did it you both look cold!” she exclaimed.
“Yes Ma’am, I am cold,” I told her.
“She doesn’t have any clothes to change into, so I thought she could borrow something of yours or Becky’s,” he explained.
“I am sure we can find her something,” his Mom said. “Come on in,” and turned to lead the way into the house. Both of us followed her in. Jim went down the hall that led off the kitchen area we had walked into and left me alone with his mother. “OH GOD,” I thought . “I AM ALONE WITH HIS MOTHER.” Since I never expected to have a boyfriend, I never expected to be in a situation where I was talking to their mother. I was completely unprepared and scared as hell. She must have noticed because she smirked a bit and said, “Relax, I don’t bite.”
“Yes Ma’am,” I said. My mother had taught me when all else fails you, manners will always be there. As it turns out, she was right.
“What size do you wear?” she asked.
“Excsuse me?” I aksed startled. I NEVER told anyone what size clothes I wore. It wasn’t the size six or eight that my sisters wore. I didn’t even tell my mother what size I wore. I was embarrassed and felt that I was fat…I never told what my size was.
“Your size…what is it?” she repeated. “I need to know so I can find you something to wear.”
I must have been having a brain strain moment. In the splashing in the water and wrestling with Jim, in the car ride there, in meeting his mother, it had never occurred to me that I was going to have to tell someone what size clothes I wore. Even though the ones I wore were dripping wet. NOW, what was I going to do?????
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