Page 114 of Love in Riverbend
The five of us turn back toward the fire. To the side, there are five-gallon buckets filled with water lined up, ready to douse the remaining flames. Everything else from the party has been cleaned up. The tables are down and most of the chairs are gone. We have a small ring of stadium chairs around the smoldering remains of the bonfire.
As people left, they took their dishes home. Even the large pig roaster is gone. The men who brought it here early this morning drove it back. One day, cooking the pig will be the responsibility of me and the men with me while the next generation will take care of the bonfire.
Before our group dwindled down to five, everyone worked together to gather the trash and put it in the back of Harvey’s truck. Harvey is two years older than Ricky and me. His family owns the junkyard west of Washington. He’ll take all the trash to the dump in the morning. The kegs are in the back of my truck. The tailgate is down, and there is still beer left to drink.
Nick Dancy finishes his beer and sighs. “I’ll hang around here if any of you need to get home.”
Two years younger than me, Nick was in Kandace’s class. He owns a plumbing business in Washington. His parents moved to Tennessee a few years back. While he doesn’t live in Riverbend anymore, he’s one of our regular returns.
“I have no place to be,” I say, flopping down in a stadium chair. While I’m looking at the glowing embers of the fire, my mind continually circles back to the woman near the pond. Each time it does, I feel my cheeks rise. It’s crazy, but I’m almost afraid to talk about her.
Was she real?
I have nothing to show for our encounter.
No phone number.
No name.
And at the same time, with only one kiss, I feel different.
If I told Ricky my thoughts, he’d think I am either insane or drunk. Maybe both.
Truth is that the only beer I drank was before I went on that walk.
That could mean she was a hallucination, or that BK made me drunk in a whole different way. That kiss was unbelievable. I’ve heard that a first kiss should be special. In reality, I’ve had more than my share of uncomfortable first kisses. Those times when noses bump, we turn our faces this way and that, or the awkwardness that comes when one person is tentative and the other isn’t. Just plain unpleasant.
Those are the times you tell yourself that it will get better. Let’s be honest, it’s because worse isn’t really a way you want it to go. Nothing ever came of those relationships. If a kiss doesn’t work, how could more?
In the hour or so since BK slipped away to her friend’s car, I’ve tried to come up with something that was wrong about our encounter, some reason to forget what was the best kiss of my life.
I can’t find one thing.
Thinking about her feisty dialogue, the way she dished it out and took it, her outward beauty, and the melody of her laugh all combined together makes me grin. Recalling the sweet taste of her lips has more of an effect on my mood than drinking ten beers. We shared a spark that I can’t recall feeling before.
Ricky goes to my truck and fills two cups with beer and brings one to me. Handing it my way, he says, “Here. You seem…distracted.”
Distracted.
I can’t mention the sale of his farm in front of the other guys, so I simply shrug, put the cup on the ground by my chair, and looking over at Nick, I change the subject. “Who were you talking to tonight? That redhead.”
“Jill Kohlberg.”
“Oh,” I say with my eyebrows raised. “Not ringing a bell, but she’s not bad in the looking-good department.”
Nick laughs as he stretches out his legs, moving his boots closer to the fire. He turns to Ricky. “You remember her, don’t you?”
Ricky seems as dazed as the rest of us as he too stretches out his legs and peers up at the star-filled sky. “Yeah. I saw her tonight. She’s one of the squealing girls who were always underfoot.”
“Right,” Nick says, “she hung out with Devan.”
“Hmm.” I try to recall the girls at Ricky’s house. To be honest, I can’t. They were nothing more than kids to me. And then I remember that Ricky said Devan is graduating from Ball State in another month. I turn to Nick. “Is there something maybe brewing between the two of you?”
He shakes his head. “She’s too young for me. But more than that, the engagement ring on her finger is a big neon hell-no sign.”
“Little Jill is getting married?” Ricky says with a hint of a question. “I wonder why Devan hasn’t said anything.”
“How often do you talk to your sister?” Harvey asks.
