The Light in the Wound (8 page)

“First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity.”

—George Bernard Shaw

Three months after we met, Jesse and I finally went to see a movie.

We held hands as he led me through the dark theater and walked me up to the very last row right below the projector. The movie house wasn’t full, but I was so nervous, I didn’t really care where we sat. Ten minutes into the movie, I turned my face to see him staring right at me. I was mesmerized by his nearness. Even in the dark, I could make out his features, but I was afraid to look right at him. He held my face and brushed his thumb across my cheek. He then leaned his head further down and nuzzled my neck.

“Isabel, you are so pretty. No, exquisite. Beautiful.”

And then it happened. Our first kiss. Slow and gentle at first, tentative and unsure. He smelled like cool grass and sun and all I wanted to do was inhale him. And though I closed my eyes, I saw him clearly. I had learned in my life that the good things were fleeting, and everything always came to an end. I wanted to remember this moment forever.

His kiss grew more demanding as I relaxed back on the chair and let him take the lead. We were breathless by the time it was over. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me as we watched the rest of the movie.

We drove home in a comfortable silence, and his voice broke into my thoughts as we pulled up to my house. “Isabel, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to happen. You. Especially you. We’re from different worlds. I had everything planned out, a course I needed to follow. But I want to be with you so much.”

“What are you saying, Jesse?” I asked. Dumb question. I knew where this was going.

“I don’t know, Isabel. I’m afraid I can’t commit to trying to have a relationship at this point. I—”

“Seriously, Jesse. It’s okay. We were just having fun. Why would you think I’d be expecting anything from you? See you around.”

I left his car, careful not to slam the door or give any indication that this was starting to hurt.

My reaction to what had just happened was momentarily placed on hold as I walked into the front entrance of our house. I found my mother sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, eating her dinner with her hands, half asleep and in a trance-like state.

“Mom,” I whispered as I bent down to kiss her on the head. “I think you’ve had enough to eat now, let’s get you wiped up and ready for bed.”

I took a wet towel, cleaned her face and hands and slowly took her upstairs to her bedroom and tucked her into bed.

I didn’t shed any tears that night. My emotions were channeled into worrying about my mother. Betty called him a jerk and said I should stop waiting around and just go on with my life. Alicia said he ducked out as soon as he saw her at practice, and Evie just said the hell with it and encouraged me to go for one of Betty’s friends. Despite the hurt that I felt from Jesse’s rejection, I found myself reliving the days of my childhood.

Memories of those years came flooding back as I vividly recalled the years in which we were shuffled back and forth between homes, or for visits to the rehab centers where my mother often stayed. One of the centers she lived in was a drab looking building two hours away from the city. Sitting in a cold waiting room with toys and coloring books while waiting for my mother to emerge from her counseling session was a weekly routine for me.

It wasn’t my mother I was visiting then — my mother was always impeccably dressed, with not a stray hair on her head. This was someone else in a hospital gown with frayed ribbons on them. Sometimes, the ribbons extended down her arm into tight long sleeves. Other times, they would just be sewn on the back of her gown. I was allowed in her bedroom where I would watch TV and read until the day came to a close. The few times I was there affected me the rest of my life. I can still close my eyes and envision the filthy yellow walls and cold metal hospital beds that smelled of rubbing alcohol.

Maybe some things just never changed.

Two weeks later, I was in the barn, untacking Pepe from a ride and brushing his tail before hosing him down. Pepe was cross tied and I had just pulled his reins over his ears and coaxed him to drop the bridle from his mouth. I never failed to admire his buckskin color, his solid neck and powerful haunches. He was indeed a beautiful animal.

“Hey Peps. If you let me pick your hooves we can share the box of sugar cubes I brought.”

“You eat sugar cubes whole?”

Here we go again.
That voice. Killed me every time.

“I think you’re in the wrong stall. Looking for another horse?”

“No, I’m actually looking for the girl that I’ve fallen in love with.”

He walked, no,
strode
toward me wearing holey jeans and a faded t-shirt. His face was achingly perfect. I was entranced by those smoldering, deep-set eyes. He held my face in his hands and kissed me.

As we continued to explore each other in silence, Pepe pushed me with his left knee and nudged me for his sugar cubes. We both laughed as I turned around to reach into my tack box and rewarded Pepe for his patience.

“You’ve fallen in love with me?” I asked, as he planted little kisses on my lips.

“I can’t stay away from you, Isabel. I don’t want to fight this anymore.” He moaned as his lips parted mine, and I truly tasted him for the first time.

So this is what it feels like to be in love.
My pulse raced and my knees went weak, and in that very moment, I knew that the course of my life and the integrity of my heart would be forever linked to this one sweet kiss.

Jesse tried to see me as much as possible in between his million other activities. He finally came over one day after school, and I introduced him to my mother. It’s a funny thing about having a mother who is well known — I didn’t have to explain anything to Jesse about her. The first time he met her, she was actually happy to see him and was a vibrant and gracious hostess.

“I love you, Isabel,” he said one night as we sat outside my school watching the cars go by. “I’ve never felt this way before. There’s just something about the way you draw people to you, the way you always try to find the best in every person. My parents think the world of you.”

I smiled at him and reached for his hand. “I love you too.”

“So, how many boys have you kissed before me?” He looked down at my hands and played with my fingers. He laid them flat on his thigh and stared straight into the distance.

“Two. But they were dumb. How about you?” Two boys who represented my attempts at disobedience for shipping me out of the country. Jared was a handsome English boy from St. George’s who used to meet me by the woods adjacent to my boarding school twice a week before curfew. I ran the other way once he asked to see me more often. And Bruce whom I met at a party when I was supposed to be babysitting for a little girl named Daniella. Bruce was a much older boy from a neighboring public school whose father owned a houseboat. My grandparents grounded me for one month after they found out I had only babysat for Daniella once. My final act of defiance had been to take up smoking. Those boys were gone, but that one habit still stayed with me.

“None. Why were they dumb?” He turned to look at me as he let go of my hand.

“They just were. Really, Jesse? No one?”

“I’ve been too busy with school and sports and had braces for the longest time.” He laughed while he eluded my eyes and looked away. “I’m jealous of those two guys you kissed. Did you like them? I mean, I guess, you’re so pretty — of course you’d have your pick of guys to kiss.” He rambled uncomfortably.

I leaned into him and lay my head on his shoulder. We tried to avoid public displays of affection in front of my school, but I didn’t care. “Don’t be. They weren’t you, and I’ve already forgotten about them.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, because from now on, these lips are the only ones that you’re ever going to know.”

Jesse and I graduated from kissing to touching to heavy petting and pleasuring each other. I think it was the night when he first said he loved me that I wanted so much to show him that I felt the same way.

“So, B, I think I’m ready,” I mentioned to Betty one night over the phone.

“Ready for what?” she asked, although the tone of her voice gave her away. She knew where this was going.

“Ready to lose it to Jesse,” I said, hushed, despite the fact that I was alone in my room.

“Isabel, things like that aren’t planned. That’s a big emotional investment.” She was, after all, in a serious relationship. As if I should really be listening to her.

“B, help me make it happen, please. I love him so much, I want him to know that,” I insisted.

She let out a deep sigh. “Okay, Isabel, let’s plan it. I know that my family will be driving up the coast next weekend and no one will be home. Leigh and I are going out of town too. Why don’t you take Jesse there, and you can stay in my room that day.”

“Really? You’d do that for me? B, you are the best friend ever!” I squealed.

That Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. I told Jesse that Betty had offered us her home that day just for some alone time. He didn’t ask any questions, he told me he would meet me there.