Authors: Deanna Lynn Sletten
CHAPTER THREE
Summer came and Jack’s days were filled with helping his father, doing chores around the family farm, and working at the gas station. Of all the work he did, he enjoyed working at his uncle Rick’s gas station the most. Jack was good with his hands, but woodworking didn’t come as naturally to him as it did to his father. Jack was relegated to sanding, staining, and screwing in the door hinges and handles, while his father did the creative work of building his custom cabinets. Then Jack would help install them in the houses of the people who’d ordered them. It took them inside many of the finest houses in town, especially those on the north end of the lake, where the bankers, lawyers, doctors, and rich businessmen lived. Jack would gaze around the beautifully built homes in awe, hoping to one day be able to own such a fine home himself. After all, if he was going to win Libbie’s heart, then he’d also have to give her the life to which she was accustomed.
That wasn’t going to be easy, though. Jack loved working on engines, and mechanics didn’t earn the type of money that bought lake homes. But he loved the process of tearing apart an engine and fixing it. Sometimes, his uncle let him work on small projects in the garage, and that was how he’d decided he wanted to be a mechanic. He’d already signed up for the new program at the high school, where he could spend half of his day throughout his senior year at the local trade school learning auto mechanics. That way he’d get his first year of trade school paid for and have only one year to pay for himself after he graduated high school. He knew his parents would help him as much as they could with their limited budget, but with a younger sister and brother coming up right behind him, money would be tight. His father did well with his cabinet business, and his family grew most of their own food and sold some beef cattle each year, so they weren’t at all poor. But they weren’t rich, either, so Jack saved as much money from his job as he could to go toward his education. He also had his eye on an old used truck that he wanted to buy by fall.
After the prom, Larry had given him heck about switching out Mary Beth for Myrtle during the dance.
“And after I risked my neck stealing that bottle of wine for you,” Larry had complained. “I had to dance with Myrtle for three songs before I could get rid of her and get back to my own date. And Bill was actually flirting with Mary Beth!”
Jack had assured his friend that his being able to spend a few minutes with Libbie had made it all worth it. “I owe you, buddy,” he’d told him.
“You bet you do,” Larry had said good-naturedly. “When you start dating Libbie, you owe me a double date with one of her cute, rich friends.”
Unfortunately, Jack hadn’t had as much time to spend pursuing Libbie as he’d hoped. June was already half over, and he’d only seen her when she came into the gas station to fill up her car. She drove the most beautiful candy-apple-red 1966 Mustang convertible with a black soft-top and interior, and Jack practically drooled over it as much as he did Libbie. But it suited her perfectly—it was small, sleek, classy, and beautiful, just like her.
One beautiful sunny June morning, Libbie drove up to the gas station and honked her horn. Jack’s head was under the hood of a car, and he was pouring new oil in it when his uncle Rick hollered to him. “I think there’s someone here to see you,” he said with a grin.
Jack walked outside, his coveralls stained in oil, wiping his hands on a rag. There was Libbie in her car. The top was down and she’d sat up on the back of her seat. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she wore white shorts and a sleeveless white shirt that showed off her tan.
“Well, there you are,” she said, smiling as she pulled off her sunglasses. “Will you fill it up for me, Jack?”
“Sure will.” He picked up the nozzle and went to the back of the car. As soon as the gas started running, he walked around the side and smiled at Libbie. “And would the lady like her windows washed, too?”
“Isn’t this a full-service station?” she asked coyly.
Jack chuckled. “Yes, ma’am, it is.” He washed her windows, then opened the hood and checked her oil. “Everything looks fine,” he told her, as he pulled out the nozzle and placed the cap back on the tank.
“Yes, it does,” Libbie said, gazing at Jack.
Jack walked around to her side of the car. “I assume this goes on your father’s account?”
“Of course.” Libbie looked Jack up and down. “You sure are dirty today. What were you doing, rolling around on the floor of the garage?”
“Yep. That’s exactly what I was doing. You should try it sometime. It’s fun rolling in grease and oil.”
Libbie giggled. “For a guy who’s supposed to be winning my heart this summer, you sure have been scarce. When are you going to start?”
Jack stopped short, surprised by her question. Regaining his composure, he said, “I’ve been working a lot this summer. But don’t worry, Libbie. I haven’t forgotten you.”
Libbie slid down into her seat and turned the car on. “A bunch of us will be at my house on the beach all afternoon. If you can tear yourself away from rolling in grease, then you should stop by.” She slipped on her sunglasses.
Jack leaned down closer to Libbie, being careful not to rub his dirty coveralls on her sparkling clean car. “I don’t get off until three.”
Libbie shrugged. “I’ll still be there.” She waggled her fingers at him, put the car in gear, and drove away.
“Pretty girl,” Rick said from behind Jack.
Jack nearly jumped out of his skin. “Geez, Rick. You scared me to death. How long have you been standing there?”
Rick laughed. He looked a lot like Jack’s father, Norman, with his tall, square build, wavy brown hair brushed back away from his forehead, and dark brown eyes. He was a couple of years younger than Norman, and he had an easygoing personality. Rick had served a year in the Korean War in 1952, and Jack always had the feeling that was the reason nothing bothered Rick much. If he could survive the war, then everything else was a piece of cake.
“Sorry, bud,” Rick said, slapping Jack on the back. “So, how long have you and the Wilkens girl been an item?”
“We’re not—yet,” Jack said, grinning. The two walked back into the garage where Jack headed to the car he was working on.
“It isn’t all that busy today,” Rick hollered at him across the shop. “Why don’t you leave at one instead of three?”
Jack looked up, surprised, but when he saw his uncle wink at him, he smiled. “Thanks, Uncle Rick.”
“Anything for young love,” Rick said, chuckling.
Jack was out of the shop exactly at one and headed home in his father’s old pickup. He had to change into his swim trunks before he could go to Libbie’s. His heart pounded excitedly. He couldn’t wait to spend time with her.
He ran upstairs to the bedroom he shared with his younger brother, Ray. Digging through his dresser drawers, he finally pulled out a pair of blue swim trunks and slipped them on. He’d had them since last summer and they were faded and worn, but they were all he had. He found a clean T-shirt to wear with them and pulled on his sneakers before heading back downstairs. Before he could run out the door, he heard his mother’s voice from the kitchen.
“Jack? Where are you running off to in such a hurry? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
Jack turned into the kitchen where his mother was busy baking bread. Practically everything Bev served her family was homemade. She had a garden in the summer and canned vegetables and fruit for the long winters. All their meat came fresh from the farm, too, and even their milk was straight from the cow.
“Uncle Rick let me off early today,” Jack said, grabbing a cookie from the jar on the counter. “I’m going swimming with some friends.”
Bev smiled at him. Her mahogany-brown hair was pulled away from her face and her eyes twinkled. “That sounds nice. I’m glad you’re going to have some fun. Be sure to come home in time for supper, okay?”
“I will, Ma,” Jack said, hurrying out the door to his dad’s truck.
Jack lived south of town, so it took a good half hour for him to drive to Libbie’s house on the north end of the lake. As he parked his dad’s old truck among the newer cars that lined the road in front of the house, he felt the first pang of trepidation. Even though Jack knew all the kids his age—they all went to school together and he’d played on the basketball team with several of the rich boys—he’d never really spent time with any of them socially. He was a farm kid, a working kid, and his parents weren’t rich. Did he really belong here, among the privileged?
As he walked up the Wilkenses’ driveway, music drifted across the yard, and he heard the sound of teenagers yelling playfully by the lake. The Wilkenses’ house was twice the size of his parents’ farmhouse. It spread out across the lot with an attached double garage and was two stories high. A circular driveway made of cobblestones ran around the front of it. A lush, manicured lawn and well-tended flower gardens spread out around the house. It was all so beautiful and elegant, and with every step down the driveway, Jack’s courage faded.
Jack heard his father’s voice in his head.
You’re just as good as they are.
His dad always told him that when they worked at the rich people’s houses installing cabinets, and Jack would sometimes feel overwhelmed. And his dad was right. No one was better than anyone else. Jack stood tall and continued down the driveway and around the side of the house toward the lake.
The yard in front of the lake was even more beautiful, with an expanse of green grass intersected by a brick walkway that led from the house to the lake. Flower gardens lined the lawn on both sides, and roses grew in gardens near the house. A large brick patio ran the length of the house, and the glass on the white French doors glistened in the afternoon sun. Farther down, the lawn turned into a sandy shore by the lake. A long dock stuck out into the water where a speedboat was docked, along with a smaller fishing boat and also a dingy with oars. On the shore sat a hand-carved wooden canoe that gleamed in the sun. Jack marveled at the grown-up toys. He’d love to have a beautiful speedboat like the one sitting there on the water.
“Hey! It’s Jack!” a male voice yelled from the sandy shore. Jack turned his attention down toward the lake where a net stood and the other kids were playing volleyball. He smiled when he spotted Libbie, who was walking toward him.
“Finally,” the male voice said. “Someone with some athletic skill. He’s on our team!”
Jack looked around at the faces and caught sight of who was yelling. He realized it was Ron, a boy he played on the basketball team with. Ron’s father owned the most successful high-end resort on the lake, not too far from Libbie’s house.
“Sorry, Ron. He’s on my team,” Libbie called out to him, giggling, as she stepped closer to Jack. “Hey, you made it. I’m glad you came.”
Jack smiled widely. “Hi, Libbie.” She was wearing a two-piece yellow swimsuit with a net cover-up that didn’t really cover much at all. Her body was shapely and slender, and her skin was a soft-golden tan. He’d seen her just that morning, yet right now she looked more radiant and beautiful than he’d ever seen her before.
Libbie laughed softly, reached for his hand, and led him toward the beach. “Say hi, everyone. You know Jack.”
“Hi, Jack,” they all said in unison and then laughed. Besides Ron, there was Carol, Libbie’s best friend, and Arnie, Matt, Jean, and Barbara. Jack knew all of them and immediately felt at ease.
“Hi, everyone!” he called back, getting another laugh from the crowd.
They started up a game of volleyball with two boys and two girls on each team. After that, they played a game with the boys against the girls, and the girls won. The boys brushed it off, saying it was a girls’ sport anyway, and the girls ribbed them about not being able to win a “girls’ sport.”
Everyone treated Jack as one of the crowd and he felt like he belonged. They laughed, joked, teased, and had a great time. Jack was happy Bill wasn’t there; otherwise, he might not have felt as welcomed. Especially since Jack couldn’t keep his eyes off Libbie. She was so pretty and fun to be around, and she teased her friends, boys and girls alike, mercilessly. They had all known each other since kindergarten, so there were no secrets among them. And for Jack, the boy from the other side of town, it felt good to be considered a part of this group.
Libbie watched Jack with admiration as he played volleyball on the boys’ team. He’d finally grown comfortable enough to take his shirt off, and he was long and lean, but muscular, too. Surprisingly, he was tanned. She figured he must work shirtless outside on the farm. She liked watching him move. Each movement was precise and fluid. He was a true athlete. And he was absolutely hunky.
The afternoon grew warmer, and everyone soon gave up on volleyball and headed for the water. The girls swam out to the floating dock to suntan, while the boys took the rowboat out to float around the dock and tease the girls. Libbie held back and so did Jack. She wanted to spend some time alone with him, and she could tell he wanted to do the same.
“Do you want a Coke?” Libbie asked. “I’ll run in and get us each one.”
“Sure,” Jack said. “I’ll go with you.”