Page 102 of The Choices I've Made
Flopping down on the sofa in the living room after making the beds for the day, I was out of answers. For now, I’d just have to take a leap of faith.
Jake was back in my life. Everything else was just details.
Around mid-afternoon, after giving directions to the lighthouse to an adorable couple visiting from Maine, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Watching them walk out the door, hand in hand, I pulled out my phone, instantly recognizing the number.
Jake and I had exchanged phone numbers when he first came to town and showed up at my door, drunk and alone. It had been part of the deal for him staying here in case I needed to kick him out to make room for a real guest.
Although I’d never had to use the number, I’d memorized it, staring at the foreign area code on the slip of paper with his familiar handwriting. It had somehow cemented in my mind the fact that he’d really been gone.
I hadn’t imagined it.
Pulling up the text message, I found myself smiling like a lovesick fool.
Jake: Not sure this will go through. Do Cokers have cell phones? Or Wi-Fi? Or are y’all still stuck in the Stone Age?
Shaking my head, I replied immediately, loving that he still remembered the slang term for a local here.
Molly: Of course we do. We’re not heathens. We had to modernize for all those pesky mainlanders and their selfie addictions.
Jake: Don’t knock the selfie. Everyone does it.
I laughed out loud, trying to picture Jake posing in front of his phone with his rugged good looks and piercing blue eyes. Ridiculous.
Although the idea of having said picture made my stomach flutter.
Molly: Nope. Not me. Too cliché.
Jake: Liar. Take one for me. Right now.
Molly: What? Why?
Jake: Let’s just say, I’ve forgotten what you look like.
Molly: I’m rolling my eyes right now.
Jake: Okay, you caught me. I need a picture for my spank bank.
Molly: JAKE!
Jake: Picture, Molly. Now. Make it a sexy one. I need something to get me through the rest of the day.
My face was in flames as I looked around the room. I felt embarrassed, excited, and erotic, all at the same time. I’d seen plenty of girls around town posing for such pictures. They’d play with their hair, make funny faces. Over and over, they’d go on like this in front of their phones until they took the perfect photo. I thought photos were about capturing a moment in time.
There was something about selfies that always felt so fake and contrived.
But sitting here, knowing Jake was waiting for a photo of me, I felt empowered and sexy.
Listening for any creaks or footsteps up above, I quickly turned my phone to photo mode, flipping the camera toward me.
I pushed around my hair, forming a deep part to one side. Tugging on my shirt, I made sure the angle of the camera caught just the right amount of cleavage. And, for the finishing touch, I angled my body and turned my head so that my collarbone and neck looked graceful and elegant.
Click.
I took several, slightly changing the angles as I went.
It turned out to be more fun than I’d anticipated. I had a newfound respect for the tourists and their selfies. Although it felt a bit phony, it was still a moment in time.
And it did make me feel beautiful.
