The Sweet By and By (21 page)

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don't you just sit back and enjoy the drive, Mrs. Colter?”

“As soon as you turn eighteen and we tell our parents, I'm changing my name.”

“Until then, it's our little secret.”

Driving with one hand, holding her with the other, Dustin stole kisses as they sped along I-80, both of them singing to the radio this time, laughing.

Jade repainted the evening's details as they came to mind, hanging the vivid memories on the walls of her heart. The color of Dustin's shirt, the feel of his hand resting on her back as they stood before the JP, the wash of emotion when he said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” and the scent of sweet corn and honeysuckle that hit her when they ran out of the house, married. Dustin had picked her up and whirled her around, head back, shouting to the stars.

If she loved him any more, her heart would burst.

Dustin swerved into a CVS parking lot on the edge of the city. “I'll be back,” he said with a kiss, leaving the truck motor running.

“Where are you going?”

“To get stuff, you know”—he bobbed his head from side to side—“for tonight.”

Her eyes widened, and she ducked into the shadow of the store light. “Oh, yeah, right.”

At the drugstore door, Dustin looked back at her. Snickering, Jade slumped down against the seat and watched him. A few minutes later, he tossed a small paper bag into the truck like it was on fire. “Next time, you're going in with me.”

“Oh, no, I'm not.” Jade peeked inside the bag. Lotion too? She had a lot to learn.

“Yes, you are. I felt like a perv.”

“Fine, then you go in with me when I buy tampons.”

He fired up the truck. “Man, married life is already complicated.”

“Wimp.” She fell into him with her kiss.

When she lifted her face, he pressed his hands over her hair and down her back. “This is forever, Mrs. Colter. You and me.”

“Forever and a day.”

Eighteen

The music of the merry-go-round faded as Jade finished her story. Max sat forward, staring at the painted rump of the horse pulling their sleigh, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt straining against his arms.

Rubbing the fingernail imprints from the palms of her hands, Jade watched Mr. Hannity weave his way through the horses toward them.

“Must have been some conversation. Y'all rode for almost thirty minutes. Listen, I can fire her up for another go-round, but after that, I'm taking my dinner break.”

“Thanks, Mr. Hannity, we're fine. Please, take your break.”

“Suit yourselves. You can sit as long as you need, but I'm shutting down the lights.”

Sitting on the motionless, dark merry-go-round, Jade waited for Max to speak. In the park oval, after-work joggers kicked fallen leaves from the cement walks.

“Aren't you going to say anything?” Jade said, breaking the silence.

“Just processing.”

Let him be. The memory of that night had burned through Jade's heart and leaked emotion through her words.

Max stood after a second, exiting the sleigh. “It bothers me, Jade. I don't want it to, but when you were telling what happened—”

“I don't love him.”

“Sure felt like you did.” Max stepped off the ride.

“I don't, Max. Believe me.” Jade followed, standing next to him on the walkway. “I haven't seen him in thirteen years.”

“You're married to him, Jade. Your first love. Most people never forget their first love. I've seen it . . . in the practice. People divorcing after ten, twenty years of marriage because they ran into their first love at a high school reunion.” He stared toward the green oval instead of at her. The wind looped his caramel-colored tie over his shoulder. “Being married to him has surely added a layer of emotional complication.”

“He may have been my first love, Max, but he destroyed my heart.” The word
destroy
sounded like an exaggeration, but she was desperate for him to hear how much she didn't love Dustin Colter. “What about those cases you've seen where love is lost because one spouse obliterated the trust of the other?”

“I've seen it, but”—he shook his head—“it's not entirely the same.”

“No, it's worse. If love and marriage were so binding, people would never divorce. Haven't you seen cases where high school marriages ended in hate and disgust?” Jade closed her eyes, exhaling.
Believe me.
“Until I met you, I didn't want to fall in love again. No man was worth my heart. I didn't believe in happily ever after.”

In a quick, jerky move, he snatched her to him, roping her into his arms. “I can't stand the thought of you loving someone else who hurt you so bad, Jade. I don't know what he did to you, but I don't like him. Not at all.”

“That makes two of us. It's you and only you for me, Max. This is why the past is the past. It never happened. It doesn't matter.” She tipped her face to see his.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, Max, so very sure. But what about you? Do you think about Rice? You were engaged.”

“No, but sometimes I think about the first woman I ever truly loved.”

“Oh?” Jade took a step back, gauging his tone and expression. She couldn't ask, not really, if the past was the past.

“And the best part?” Max brushed her hair aside, kissed her temple, and enveloped her in his embrace. “She's standing in my arms right now.”

Nineteen

Prairie City, November 1996

Long shadows crept across the living room from the south-facing windows. Curled on the couch, Jade surfed afternoon programs, her thumb rapid on the remote's channel button.

Eighty channels and nothing decent on. She tossed the remote to the end of the sofa. Willow had some program she watched at five thirty anyway.

Granny had dropped her off after picking her up from the babysitter and before making a run to the market, and asked if Jade was going to be home for dinner. She wanted to know how much chicken to pick up.

No, Gran, Dustin was picking her up after football practice. Restless, Jade picked up the JC Penney catalog on the end table. Flipping through the pages, she paused at the ones Willow had already marked for Christmas.

“What are you doing?” Willow bolted into the room with a pageant of Barbies in her hand. Mama brought her a new one every time she and Gig stopped by on their way to another show.

“Waiting for Dustin.”

“He's late again, ain't he?” Willow dropped to the floor and started lining up her dolls.

“Isn't he. No.”

“You can watch Mary Kate and Ashley with me and the Barbies. Shh, Miranda, you can't talk during the show.” Her finger to her lips, Willow bent toward one of the dolls. Then she aimed the remote and clicked on the television.

“Who do you like best? Mary Kate or Ashley?”

Willow shrugged. “They both leave something to be desired, but they're good entertainment.”

Jade laughed. “Where'd you hear that?”

“Read it in
People
.”

“Does Granny know you're sneaking into her magazine stash?” Jade brushed her hand over the girl's long, tangled hair before rising from the sofa and grabbing her jacket from the hook by the door.

Walking out to the porch, she leaned against the post. The scene before her had changed since Dustin picked her up in June and carried her away.

Summer green had given way to fall gray. The forecast predicted snow tonight. She and Dustin were going to build a fire in his parents' basement— his parents always turned in early—and watch a video.

A tingle tightened her skin. Living apart, keeping their marriage a secret, made the relationship both exciting and frustrating.

It was hard to be with him and then have to stir herself to go home. Especially now that the weather was growing colder and snuggling was more fun. But Granny's curfew was nonnegotiable. Even Mama couldn't override her.

Mr. and Mrs. Colter had a different approach with Dustin. They'd just say, “Don't stay out late, son.”

After five months Jade had zero regrets about marrying him. If possible, she loved him more every day, but . . .

They had their trials—Dustin getting distracted by football and the guys, and the Northern Iowa University recruiter who offered him a wrestling scholarship.

Even now, the idea of him going away to college muted all the colors in Jade's world. When he proposed and they talked through their plans, he'd promised to wait a year for her. He'd work at the plant and on the farm with his dad, then they'd go to college together. She'd spent hours researching married housing and off-campus rentals.

Then there was the week his dad grounded him for back-talking his mom— no truck, no phone, no visitors. That was a long, hard week, but Dustin spent the entire time planning their reunion.

The memory made Jade smile.

So they'd weathered a few storms and were stronger for it. Then last night, during a gin rummy match with Aiden—

The screen door clapped, and Jade looked down to see Willow hanging over the porch rail next to her. “Those twins are insipid.”

“Willow, do you know what
insipid
means?”

“No, but I like saying it. Insipid, insipid.”

“Better not let Granny catch you out here without your jacket. Oh, look, is that her car?”

Willow was a dirty-blonde blur. Her feet thudded. The door slammed. When she returned, her jacket was zipped to her chin and her hood rode low over her forehead.

“I don't see Granny's car.”

“Hm, must have been one that looked like hers.”

Willow stuck her feet through the porch rungs, bending her waist over the rail, eyes toward the road. “I'm waiting for Aiden. He's taking me to church tonight.”

“Is he?”

“They give kids cookies and Kool-Aid.”

“I bet.”

Aiden attended church with his girlfriend's family. A few months ago he got baptized. Jade went to witness with Dustin, Willow, and Granny. When Aiden disappeared under the water, Jade touched her praying hands medallion as her belly did a free fall with hot tears chasing. Next to her, Granny cried, covering her nose with a tissue, and Willow pestered Dustin about how long Aiden could hold his breath underwater without croaking.

When the pastor lifted Aiden from the water, declaring all his sins buried with Christ, a lump formed in Jade's chest. Her brother looked different, his simple happiness boosted by a spiritual experience.

She'd leaned against Dustin. Aiden had Jesus, and she had her husband.

“What else do they do at church?” she asked Willow.

Willow spotted a fleeing spider on the porch rail and puffed it over the side. “Talk about Jesus.”

“Yeah? Do you like Him?”

“He seems like a good guy. I'd like to spit in the dirt and stick mud in someone's eyes too.”

“And who might that be? Billy Spangler?”

“Yeah,” Willow said low, out the corner of her mouth, cheek against her palm. Billy taunted Willow regularly. So much that Granny had to call the school. “But I'd have to poke his eye out first.”

Jade swung her up in a hug and sat with her on the porch swing. “You just tell Billy when you're grown up and drop-dead gorgeous, he'll be sorry.”

Willow frowned, leaning against Jade. “I want him to be sorry now.”

“Yeah, well, me too.” Jade pushed her toe against the porch and set the swing in motion. “But trust me, it'll mean way more when he's sixteen and you won't give him the time of day. By the way, what time is it?”

“I'll go see.” Willow hopped down, running inside. “You want a snack, Jade?”

“Just the time, please.” Riding the swing back and forth, she surveyed the road. Football practice ended at five-thirty. She expected to see Dustin's blue truck coming around the bend any time now. Jade gathered her jacket around her. Cold anticipation prickled up her arms and down her legs as her mind upped the volume on last-night's conversation with Aiden.

“So, what do you think of Dustin's news? Northern Iowa is not that far. I think Paps' truck could make the trip without falling apart.”

“What are you talking about? He's not taking the scholarship . . . He's going to work for a year, then go to college with me.”

“It's all over the locker room. He took the scholarship. He'll be road-tripping to NIU with Hartline this weekend.”

“You're lying, Aiden.”

“Why would I lie, Jade-o?”

“Don't come in here all holy and mighty, Saint Aiden, and rain on my world. Dustin wouldn't leave without telling me.”

His wife.

“Whatever, take it up with him. Are you playing cards or not? It's your turn.”

“I don't want to play.”

She'd tried during school today to talk to Dustin, but a net of emotion trapped her words.

Willow thundered back out to the porch. “Dustin wants to talk to you.”

Jade jumped from the swing. “He called?”

Willow hung on the porch rail, gazing down the road. “Don't see him standing here, do you?”

“You watch too much television, Wills.” Jade steered her sister back inside and picked up the living room portable. “Hey, where are you?”

“I'm at Hartline's house.” Booming voices trampled over his.

“Hartline?” Ben Hartline, the one going on the supposed road trip. He was a burly defensive end who thought a good time was shooting BBs at dogs and cats. “You're supposed to be here, picking me up.”

“I was planning on it, believe me, but . . .” His voice faded like he'd dropped the mouthpiece below his chin. “Hey, don't start the film without me . . . Jade, Coach gave us film of Mid Prairie. We're ordering pizza, going over their plays and key players. If we beat them, it's Division for us.”