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She turned her back toward her dad and held out her hand for it. She squeezed my hand when she took it from me and winked.
“See you at church tomorrow,” she said.
“See ya’,” I said, not wanting to leave, wishing we could sit on her porch and talk and kiss until the sun rose.
I turned toward my truck and felt Jules’ eyes return to her father’s.
“Did you have fun?” He asked her as I counted the sounds of each step she took up her porch.
I could hear every word.
“I did, thank you for asking pop.”
“Did you kiss ‘em?” He teased.
“Dad! Stop it!” Jules’ voiced trailed off before the door closed.
I shook my head and laughed as I shoved the keys into the ignition and drove the two miles to my parents' farmhouse. When I got home my dad was in the red barn refinishing some old doors he found in a nearby junkyard to replace two of the interior doors of the house. My truck bit at the popping gravel driveway as I parked it just outside the barn. The door squeaked open before I slammed it shut.
“Hey dad,” I said, pulling my fingers through my hair.
“Hey son,” he said, glancing up at me, “did you have fun?”
“I did, dad. I really did.”
“I can tell,” he laughed.
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” My eyes wide as saucers.
“Your lips son, their swollen, from kissing I assume.”
I pressed my lips together before lifting a finger to feel them. They were definitely raw but I didn’t know that was visible to the world.
“Yeah, well,” was all I could say.
“As long as it’s just kissing, I don’t have a problem with it. You just make sure it’s only that. Keep your hands in your pockets if you have to. You hear me?”
“Yes sir.”
If I had revealed why I so adamantly agreed with him, he wouldn’t have believed me. I wouldn’t have done anything to Jules that I wouldn’t want done to my own daughter. Jules was precious to me.
“Get any homework at all done?”
“Yes sir, probably not as much as I should have but enough. The paper’s not due for two weeks yet. I’m in pretty good shape.”
“Good. Good,” he said, sanding off some old red paint. “Well you better get yourself into that house son. Your mama’s been waiting all day to talk to you.”
“Okay dad. Need any help?”
“Nope. Now get.”
I walked up the little hill my house sat on top of and thought of how Jules was safely becoming a permanent fixture in my life. When I entered through the kitchen, my mom was at her huge ceramic farm sink, peeling potatoes for Sunday’s potato salad. When she saw me she threw down her peeler and wiped her hands on a blue and white dishtowel.
“Hey mama,” I said and began to walk the kitchen stairs to my room.
“Wait Elliott. Tell me. How did it go baby?”
“It went extremely well mom. I had the most fun day of my life today. Julia Jacobs is an incredible girl.”
