CHAPTER 10
Caught Up in You
I didn't get out of bed until after noon. I had tossed and turned all night and was exhausted, but I finally dragged myself downstairs to see if anyone was around. The kids were outside playing with the water hose and Mum was on the back porch swing. I couldn't face her right now. I needed to get out of here. I ran back upstairs, got dressed in a hurry, grabbed my secret stash of mmb's, yelled bye to Mum, and flew out the front door. As I approached my car, I noticed a folded piece of paper stuck in the driver's side window between the glass and the rubber guard. I snatched it out, crumpled it up, and threw it into my purse without looking at it. I whistled for Axl. A second later, he appeared and I let him jump in, over the driver's seat and on to the passenger's side, as though we did this every day. I love this dog!
I pulled out on to the road and just started driving, blasting my emergency song, "Don't Worry Baby". I wasn't sure exactly what it was about this particular song that mellowed me out, but those perfect Beach Boys' harmonies did it for me every time. I had no idea where I was going. I just knew I had to find somewhere secluded so I could lay on my blanket, jam the earbuds into my ears, eat mmb's till I was sick, and eradicate every thought of Ty Gregory. I was driving for about ten minutes or so when I realized I was headed toward Black Creek. The guys had mentioned that no one usually rode there during the day. I figured I'd stop by and see if there were any vehicles in the lot. Five minutes later, I pulled in and was relieved to see that no one was around. I retrieved my blanket from the trunk, picked up my bag, and called for Axl to follow me. We strode down a randomly chosen path, eventually stumbling onto a field that resembled the one I had had my first kiss in just the other night. I surveyed the area briefly and decided on the perfect spot - in the shadow of the branches of a large oak tree, complete with the ubiquitous Spanish moss sprinkled over it like tinsel on a Christmas tree.
I spread out my blanket, the one I always kept in my trunk for times like this, and flopped down in the middle of it. I reached into my purse for my phone, finding the crumpled piece of paper instead. I opened it slowly, not sure I really wanted to read it. In neat block letters, it simply read: "My sweet Essie, I will do whatever it takes". It was sweet and it made me happy, and yet, at the same time, angry with myself for feeling that way. I threw the note back in my purse, grabbed my phone, and opened the box of mmb's. I perused my playlists, looking for something calming, meditative. I decided on some classical violin, my standard choice for serious contemplation. There was something about classical music, and especially the violin, that spoke directly to my soul. It could make me smile in an instant and then, just as suddenly, bring me to tears. It made me feel "floaty". I laid back and closed my eyes, imagining the story Massenet had in mind as he was composing this particular masterpiece. The temperature had already reached ninety degrees, according to my phone, but there was a slight breeze that circulated the humid air just enough to make it bearable in the oak's shadow.
"Damn him!" I cursed out loud, as happy thoughts of last night ambushed my imaginary violin drama. I needed to be angry. I was insulted that he thought I was the kind of girl who would hook up on a quasi-third date, in a public park, no less. Yet, I had to admit that everything else prior to "the incident" was perfect. Maybe he was just used to girls who didn't say no. After all, he was beautiful and charming and rich. And, to be fair, most girls my age were no longer virgins. He probably just assumed. Ugh! I was rationalizing on his behalf. Did I at least owe him the opportunity to mount his own defense? Maybe. But right now I turned my attention back to the music and I drifted off as Ty and I became the leads in the Victorian-era tale I had dreamt up.
When I opened my eyes, I thought I was still dreaming. Ty was sitting cross-legged on the blanket, petting Axl, watching me. I blinked a couple of times, then sat up abruptly.
"What are you? How did you?" I stammered. He just stared at me as though he was studying my face for an important test to be given later. "How did you find me here?" I asked, finally able to finish a sentence.
"I went by your house a little while ago to see if you were ready to talk to me and your mom said you ran off with the dog. I knew you weren't familiar with the area yet, but you'd been here, and it's a great place to bring a dog. Anyway, I took a chance. But if you weren't here, I would have kept looking. I don't want any more time to pass with you not speaking to me. Will you please let me explain?"
"Go ahead."
"Thank you," he said, his voice low and sounding earnest. He continued, "First, let me say again how sorry I am. I should have exhibited more self-control. I was wrong. But the way you kissed me?"
I gasped. "Are you trying to say that it was my fault?" I asked with all the accusation I could put into a question.
"No. Absolutely not. That's not what I was trying to say. Please give me a minute to talk without interrupting, okay?"
I stared at him, expressionless, saying nothing.
"I like you, Essie. From the moment I saw you in the grocery store, I just knew there was something different about you. I have never invited another girl to my home for dinner with my parents. Never. I won't lie to you and tell you that there haven't been other girls, but I can tell you that none of them meant anything to me. I know it's only been a few days, but I've never met anyone like you. I love how you interacted with my family, and yours, at dinner. I love how you randomly made friends with Jackson and Colton and came all by yourself to go four-wheeling. I love how you indulged my sister on her shopping spree, especially because I can tell it's not something that you particularly care about. I love how you use big words. I love how much you love chocolate and coffee. What I'm trying to say, not very articulately, I know, is that all those feelings rose to the surface when you kissed me. And I just wanted you so badly. I wasn't thinking clearly. I know that's not an excuse for my behavior, but it's the truth. If you'll forgive me, I promise to keep my hands to myself in the future," he vowed, repentance in his eyes.
Awww, he was so sweet. How could I say no to that? I thought, wanting to grant him absolution. Everyone deserved a second chance, right? "I forgive you," I said softly, this time meaning it.
He smiled his dazzling smile. "I want to give you a hug."
"I'd like that."
From his sitting position, he got up on his knees and moved toward me with his arms outstretched. I broke into a smile and followed his lead. He embraced me tenderly for a very long moment, and every bit of animosity that had consumed me mere minutes before melted away. When I rested my head on his chest, he began to gently run his fingers through my hair, picking up pieces and letting them fall. "I forgive you," I whispered again. And he turned his head to kiss the side of my face.
As the afternoon wore on, he finally began to reveal some details of his life. His family's wealth had been inherited through many generations. I laughed when he told me that his ancestors had originally hailed from the Middle East; he couldn't look more all-American, with his blond hair, straight, smallish nose, and quarterback good looks. I also learned that he had travelled the world with his family; he loved fast cars and had had the seat and console of his Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano custom fit at the factory in Maranello, Italy; his family had a vacation home on Sea Island, one of Georgia's barrier islands, south of Savannah; he loved to sail and to play golf. I wondered aloud why they had settled in the tiny town of Eden.
"There are some things about my family that are better left unsaid at the moment," he answered cryptically.
"That statement will only increase my curiosity. You know I'm an aspiring journalist and I love a good story."
"Another time, Essie."
I started to protest but he held his finger to my lips. "Another time." And then he quickly changed the subject. "You must be hungry by now. Can I take you to dinner?"
Now that I thought about it, I was hungry. The only thing I'd had to eat all day were my malted milk balls.
"I wish we had something here so we didn't have to leave."<
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"I can go get something if you'd like. What are you in the mood for? And keep in mind that the local options are limited."
"Surprise me."
"Hmmm?" he pondered. Then he kissed my cheek and said, "I'll just be a few minutes."
He returned with Chinese food from the next town over, complete with chopsticks. I felt like we were acting out a scene from some romantic movie as we sat across from one another, sharing boxes of Chinese takeout, making each other laugh.
When it was time to open the fortune cookies, he handed me one and commanded, "You first."
I cracked open the cookie and pulled out the slip of paper that had been tucked inside. "Discover the power that is within yourself."
"Are you keeping something from me?" he teased. "What secret power do you possess?"
"Maybe I can fly! Now all I have to do is discover it," I laughed. "What about yours?"
"Your smile brings happiness to everyone you meet."
"Does it really say that?"
He handed me his fortune. I shook my head. "I'm sure that's true."
"But does it make you happy?"
"I think you know the answer to that," I remarked evasively.
He flashed his dazzling smile again, but in a forced, comical way that made me fall over laughing.
"Is my smile bringing you happiness?" he inquired through clenched teeth.
"Yes," I admitted, unable to stop laughing.
"I'm not convinced," he continued, the smile still plastered on his face.
"You win. You win," I relented. "Your smile brings me happiness."
"Was that so hard?" he asked, finally returning his face to normal.
"Not so hard."