The Understorey, Book One of The Leaving Series (31 page)

We headed out the door and she completed the
rest of the tour. Her aunt’s home was hands down one of the most
creatively beautiful homes I’d ever seen. After the tour, we
trudged down the stairs and met everyone in the massive kitchen. We
still had a couple of hours to kill before we left for Caroline’s
gig so all the older kids decided to watch a movie.

    “Back to the scene of the
crime,” I nudged quietly.
We both laughed and sat together at the back of the five rows of
seats and everyone else piled in around us, knee deep in their own
conversations.
    “What are we watching?” I asked Jules.
    “Not sure. My Uncle Rocky’s picking the film.
He’s got pretty great taste in films.”

The lights dimmed and I heard the familiar
ticking of the film before it shot onto to the oversized screen in
front of us. Jules and I rested our feet on the seats in front of
us but neither of us made it past the opening credits. We fell
asleep with my arm around Jules and her head on my shoulder. I
dozed off breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

When the movie was over, apparently the other
kids just let us get some sleep and Jules’ mom didn’t wake us until
everyone was ready to leave.

“Julia, honey,” I barely heard.

Jules rustled beneath my arms.
    “Yeah?” She asked, unaware where she was. “Oh,
what time is it?”
    “Quarter ‘til dear.”
    “Okay.”
Jules shook me awake and I sat up. We both stretched in our seats
and stood up.
    “I’m going to freshen up,” Jules said, “before
we have to leave.”
I met Jules in the foyer five minutes later and we all piled into
various cars.
    We all marched into Antone’s with amazed eyes.
The venue was dark and smelled of incense. One of their songs
played softly to rev the crowd up.
    “That’s all Caroline,” Jules said.
    “This is really exciting,” I said.
    The band came out first and began to play a low
beat and then Caroline joined the stage. The audience erupted into
shouts and applause. I guess she was the reason people came. Then,
I saw
why
she was the real reason people came. Her dancing
was phenomenal and I saw so much of Jules in her it was shocking.
They looked alike, danced alike and even made similar facial
expressions.
    “It’s obvious that you’re family,” I said.
    “Seriously? What a compliment! Thanks babe!”

The music was a mixture of Egyptian and
Middle Eastern and was full of experimental beats, viola, and
percussion. It was hypnotic, the music and the dancing. The best
part of the evening was when Caroline pulled Jules up onto the
stage and made her dance something they both knew together. I wish
I had remembered to bring a camera, Jules looked so amazing up
there. She was a natural. At the end of their song I lifted Jules
by the waist off the stage and guided a breathless Jules back to
her family.

    “I’m sorry your parents
missed that,” I said.
    “How did I look? Stupid?” She laughed.
    “Absolutely not! You looked so good up there!
You looked like you belonged there! I’m so impressed Jules!” I
screamed over the music.
    “Thanks darlin’!” She spoke into my ear and
kissed my cheek.

After the concert, everyone stuck around and
waited for Caroline but she sent word that she was helping the guys
do their thing and she would meet us at Isabel’s the next morning.
We all left in such an uplifted mood and everyone wouldn’t stop
gushing about Jules’ involvement. I guess a couple of them didn’t
even know she was into Tribal. All in all, I’d say it was a
fantastic evening.

I was really looking forward to bed and at
the first opportunity, I fell into my cot and dreamed, for the
first time, the dream that would forever fill my nights.

The dream of the ruthless ideal. The dream
haunted me even after Jules left me.

Basically, it was everything I had imagined
being a newlywed with Jules would be. We were on our honeymoon,
only the location would change, and it always began in the morning.
We were always eating at a table inside of our room overlooking
mountains, the ocean, snow, desert, you name it. I’d be drinking
coffee or tea and she was always reading. We were both together and
only slightly distracted from one another. We stayed quiet, neither
one speaking a word, but speaking volumes in the way we looked at
and touched each other. Every glance, every flirtatious smile, each
sigh of breath meant something profound. We kept our feet in
constant contact and even in the dream I could feel the deeply
steamed flux of electricity. Each time, It made me wake with an
unquenchable thirst for Jules. That first morning, I woke
hyperventilating.

The first few days, I thought it was because
I was becoming claustrophobic from being wedged in between the wall
and the billiard’s table but I would find out eventually that it
was a physical reaction to the dream. It was euphoric. Every
morning I woke slightly earlier than usual so I could revel in it
as long as possible before the feeling wore off.

   
I need to see
Jules
. It was six in the morning but I hopped up from my cot
anyway, showered, didn’t bother shaving, brushed my teeth, dressed
and waited downstairs by myself for Jules to come down.
Surprisingly, she was not five minutes behind me. The kitchen had
massive rolling doors that opened to the outside patio and I opened
them to breathe in the cool air. I sat at a breakfast table chair,
staring from underneath the open door when I saw her descend the
industrial staircase. I bounded to greet her with the largest
smile, totally not expecting her to have met me so early. I held
her at her waist and brought her delicate face to mine. I kissed
her severely. I sat her back down and kept my hand at her waist
because I felt she had lost her footing from the kiss.
    “I hoped you would have been down here,” she
whispered.
    “You did?” I asked quietly.

She brought her lips to my ear, “I had a
dream about us.”

I stared at her in disbelief.
    “So did I.”
    “What was yours about?” She asked.
    “Our honeymoon,” I said.
    “Mine too.”

Why I was surprised by this, I don’t know. I
had gotten used to things being
unusual
between us, I just
hadn’t expected this was all.
    “Amazing,” I said.
She told me all about her dream. It was almost identical to mine
but with a slight twist. She said she kept trying to talk to me but
I wouldn’t answer her and all she was able to do was touch me and
smile at me.
    “Amazing,” I repeated.

I held on to her for a very long time. I
cupped her face in my hands and stared into her eyes. Every now and
then I would softly kiss her chin, cheek, forehead, or lips. I was
passionately in love with Jules and I could see in her eyes and
feel through her touch that she was too.

“I’m so in love with you Jules,” I said.

“And I with you, my love,” she answered.

“I don’t think I can wait to belong to you
any longer. Please marry me after graduation Jules?”

Desperate.

“We can’t my love. We’ll need to wait just a
little bit longer. What is four years in the scheme of things?”

“But why?”

“Because I promised your mother you’d become
the man you wanted to be and I wouldn’t hinder that for anything in
the world. I like to keep my promises.”

“Oh, mom can just mind her own business!” I
said roughly.

“Elliott,” she sang, “we can do this. We can
wait and we will be all the more in love because of it. Waiting is
one of those things that test your character dear and I have a
feeling that eventually we’ll be two of the most satiated
characters that ever walked God’s earth.

“One of the greatest thing about character is
its peculiar after effect. It naturally molds you into the person
that you are meant to be. Many who suffer the pains of instant
gratification suffer their characters because of it and never get
to discover all that they could be. It’s tragic. Elliott, you and I
were meant to wait. I feel it in my bones. Waiting is one of the
variables of our fated formula.” She placed both her hands on my
forearms and reached to lean closely into my ear. “And its results?
Will be
astounding
,” she promised and sweetly kissed my
cheek.

I looked on her gratefully.

“I’m afraid I’ve botched any chance of a
romantic proposal,” I admitted.

“That’s not true,” she said. “What could be
more romantic than a man so desperate to marry you he would ask a
thousand times? No, there is nothing more romantic.”

“You’re a clever girl Jules.”

“No, not clever, truthful.”

“Then, both.”

I kissed her again, this time more
melodiously.

“Eventually,” I taunted.

“Eventually.”

We let go of one another at the sound of
Jules’ father coming down the staircase.

“What in the heck are you two doing up?” He
asked. His eyes became large, “You two aren’t just getting in are
you?”

“No Mr. Jacobs. We rode with everyone else
last night. Jules and I were just the earliest risers this
morning,” I said.

I glanced at Jules and she smiled back.

“Oh,” he said shuffling in his slippers and
bathrobe to an empty coffee pot. “Didn’t either of you make
coffee?”

We both shook our heads.

“That’s unAmerican,” he joked. “It’s too
chilly for the door to be open. Close that for me, will ya’
Elliott?”

I rolled the door down and locked the chain.
The kitchen began to heat up with warm bodies and Joan E’s cooking.
She made these miniature quiches with the most delectable insides
known to man. I never would have considered myself a ‘quiche’ kind
of guy but I ate my share and three other’s worth of the darn
things. Jules, on a whim, made a yogurt parfait with low fat
yogurt, fresh fruit, and honey baked granola. That was probably her
antidote to all the cholesterol I had just ingested.

“Here babe,” she said handing me a bowl.

“Jules, are you worried about me?” I
cracked.

“A little,” she said. “I was just witness to
the feast you treated yourself to. If I wasn’t already aware of
your intimidating self control I’d think you’d had none.”

Everyone got really quiet, reading too much
into what she had just said. I felt the color drain from my own
face and travel over to Jules’ red hot cheeks. Suddenly, everyone
burst into laughter. All, except Jules father, but I could live
with that. I mean, technically I was being accused of being a
prude. That was okay with me. Jules, on the other hand, had just
labeled herself the opposite.

I jumped in trying to save her, “Well, I can
take it. I do work out a lot with the team. I burn a lot of
calories running up and down the field.”

“And not to mention it relieves frustration,”
someone said under their breath. I’m guessing one of the sarcastic
cousins.

Another burst of laughter, but this time it
was my cheeks that got their color back and then some. Jules’ dad
intervened and surprisingly came to our defenses.

“Okay, okay. Everyone calm down,” he said.
“They’re two very good kids and we don’t want to weaken their
beliefs by letting them think what they’re doing is too old
fashioned.”

Jules’ aunt Isabel chimed in to back up
Jules’ dad, “That’s right Julia and Elliott. You’re light years
above people twice your age and I’m waiting for the amazing thing
that will inescapably come of you both.”

Everyone started to agree and assured us they
meant no harm when Caroline came to our rescue and diverted the
attention from us.

“Whew!” I aimed at Jules.

She smiled, shrugged her shoulders and rolled
her eyes.

“Never been so happy to see Caroline,” she
murmured.

I reached over the counter top and grabbed
her hand. My little instant anxiety relief flickered through my
arms and I got a double dose in my fluttering heart as it coasted
to an easy rhythm. I let go of her hand and we both sighed in
relief.

“Let’s take a walk together,” I offered.

“What an excellent idea. I need to get out of
here.”

We mentioned what we were doing to Jules’ mom
and headed out the door.  We walked around her aunt’s
neighborhood at first and found a main street that lead us onto a
charming street chock full of creative little businesses. We
stopped into a little novelty store where we bought a little flip
book of a woman from the twenties wearing a bathing suit that went
to her knees. When you flipped the book, she did a little dance, it
was hilarious. Jules and I laughed for five minutes.

Then we stopped at a little organic coffee
house and had a small cup of coffee and chatted for at least an
hour, though it felt like five minutes.

Afterwards, we stopped at a local art gallery
and Jules gushed over all of the art with the curator. Invariably,
Jules was asked to send a painting, constant as ever. We left the
gallery and began walking back toward Jules’ aunt’s home.

We passed a window full of wedding dresses
and I jokingly nudged Jules’ ribs. She rolled her eyes at me, put
her fist up to her mouth and pretended to blow an imaginary dart at
me. Not one to be shown up, I grabbed my neck and dramatically
wavered until I fell onto a nearby park bench. We caught an older
couple laughing at us and Jules bowed.

“Come on,” I said dragging her back toward
the main street, “you win.”

When we finally got back to the house, it was
time for lunch. Her aunt made this really indulgent salad with
homemade dressing and I stuck to that to please Jules after this
morning’s disaster.

Everyone piled into the theater room
afterwards and there were so many of her family members there
weren’t enough seats so the older kids sprawled out on to the floor
in front of the screen with pillows and blankets. Jules and I
picked the darkest area in the far right corner.