“Can someone actually make Nebraska feel like growing up in Connecticut?” he asks with a twinkle in his eyes.
“I know. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s just her way to cope. I guess marrying my dad was her one act of rebellion, even though he wasn’t some schmuck. But she came from Old Money, and my dad was definitely a New Money guy, which her parents didn’t approve of. My brother and sister and I didn’t even meet our grandparents until we were like, in elementary school because they weren’t talking to my mom for a long time. They weren’t even invited to her wedding. And then when we finally did meet them, she wasso different.She’s never been a really demonstrative person, but it was like going back to her parents’ house and having their eyes on her made her shut off any ability to feel empathy.”
I shrug, taking my eyes away from Jeremy to glance down at the boardwalk.
“As we got older, she became more and more strict about what we were and weren’t allowed to do. And it was all very rigid. Like, my brother was expected to do things that were athletic, but nothing too brutish. Running, golf, tennis, swimming. My sister and I both had piano lessons until we were in high school, and if we’d wanted to, we could have taken ballet or joined book clubs or volunteered for charities.”
Jeremy laughs.
“I know, right? Like, what century do we live in? This isn’tPride and Prejudiceand I wasn’t trying to do anything totally off the wall.I wanted to play volleyball and join the Pre-Med club in high school, not snort cocaine.” I laugh. “But that’s what I mean. I stuck with the piano lessons and did dance recitals each year until I was almost 16, and my mom was so encouraging and supportive. She was at every show and drove me to all my practices. She smiled more and told me she was proud of me.”
I shake my head. “But whenever I would ask to do something that didn’t align with whatshewanted for me, she was like a completely different person, you know? And my dad… I think he’s just so in love with my mom and so worried that she’ll leave to go back to her old life that he lets her do whatever, even if it’s stifling for his kids or even himself.”
I let my eyes wander over the people walking past us in bright colors and bathing suits. “I’ve wondered a few times who he used to be – before my mom got so straight laced, if that time even exists.”
I turn to Jeremy with a smile. “I found this photo album once of the two of them from the 80s. My dad had this super sweet red car and my mom had this big wild hair and a mini dress. I almost died when I found it. It’s full of photos of these two people I feel like I’ve never met before.”
“That’s kind of sad, when you put it that way,’ he says, squeezing my hand slightly.
I nod. “I know. But I can’t force them to be who they were in their 20s, you know? Just like I don’t want them trying to force me to be someone I’m not.”
When I look up at Jeremy, I see a soft smile playing on his face. “What?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You’re just really mature,” he says with a half laugh. “I don’t know, I guess when I think about my asshole dad I only think about what I can change about him. I’ve never really thought about anything positive.” He shrugs again and shakes his head just slightly. “I don’t know.”
We slip into a comfortable silence and keep our eyes focused on the horizon as the sun starts to dip low in the sky. The sunsets on the coast are so different than at home. Nebraska sunsets are majestic, with the sun shining out from behind clouds, beams of light breaking through wisps of white in ethereal rays that hint at a higher being sitting just beyond them.
The sunset tonight looks like it could set the world on fire. Hot pinks and violent orange streaks the sky, the color only broken up by the palm trees that look black against the brightness of the sun in the distance.
“Looks like fire, doesn’t it?” Jeremy asks.
I nod, not taking my eyes off of the sun, even though it hurts my eyes. “I was just thinking that. It’s so harsh, it makes everything look like a photo that’s been sun-bleached. But there’s a strange vibrancy to it too. It’s different than anything I’ve seen before. I don’t really know how it makes me feel, but I know I like it.”
When I finally take my eyes off of the sun and glance at Jeremy, I find him staring at me.
“I know what you mean,” he says, his voice low. And I know he’s not talking about the sunset.
I give him a shy smile and lean further into him, kissing him lightly on the neck before forcing myself to look back at the gorgeous view as the sun finally starts to break across the horizon.
“You know about the green flash?” Jeremy says, and I shake my head.
“Never heard of it.”
“Well, there are lots of legends about it, and there are legit scientific explanations too. But my favorite is in the Jimmy Buffett song.”
“Who’s Jimmy Buffett?” I ask.
His mouth opens slightly then he laughs. “Okay, we will revisit this conversation, definitely. But Jimmy wrote a short song calledGreen Flash at Sunset. It’s not on any albums, it’s just something I stumbled across one day online.”
He reaches forward and grabs his phone again, flipping through and pulling something up online. A slow acoustic song starts up, and he holds his phone up between us so I can hear the words.
I listen for about forty seconds, and then it’s over.
“I think that’s the shortest song I’ve ever heard,” I say, feeling a little confused by the lyrics. “What does it mean?”
“It’s essentially saying that the green flash is an illusion, like recapturing young love, something we wish was there but isn’t real.”
“Well,that’sdepressing,” I reply.
