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Epilogue
A Single, Rapturous Kiss
Eight weeks after surgery and I was almost back to normal. I still had the sling around my shoulder but it was healing nicely. My jaw was no longer wired shut and it was still very difficult to eat but unlike most invalids I’d known, for example, Andy Frasier one of my team’s lineman, my broken jaw hadn’t made me lose weight and I had Jules to thank for that. She kept me well nourished, bringing a hearty soup for lunch every day and a nutritional shake for breakfast.
She picked me up every day before school, except the first couple of weeks, when our parents had to drive us because Jules had to stroll around in a wheelchair. You should have seen her rolling around beside me with my ridiculous jaw and shoulder. We looked insane together.
When things had died out a little bit, my mom insisted we take a picture together to remember our ‘cuteness’ but insisted that ‘as cute as y’all are’ that it better never happen again. I say ‘when things died down’ because our real concerns had only begun to dissipate, at a turtle’s pace I might add, just after the first several weeks.
After an extensive search for Jesse, his body never turned up and Jules would practically beg me not to leave her for the night in fear that he’d return and finish what he started. She was especially fearful when she wasn’t able to stand on her own. She knew that if she ever saw him again that he or she would have to die and she worried that, without me, it would be her.
When my shoulder healed well enough to maneuver how I’d need to in order to sneak into her window at night I would sleep on her floor. Despite the fact it was cold and I was really uncomfortable on her wood floor, the weeks I slept next to Jules were the best because she would drape her hand off the side of the bed and keep it against my arm. It was pure bliss.
Taylor Williams and Marisa Hartford cooperated fully with the police once they knew the extent of Jesse’s damage and escaped with probation and lots of community service. Both, when they saw us for the first time in our battered states, pleaded for our forgiveness, insisting they had no clue what Jesse had really planned. We believed them. We thought them stupid, but we believed them.
According to Danny, Jesse never contacted either of them or his family since disappearing into the water. Taylor kept a very clear distance from us and barely looked in Jules’ eyes. Marisa, on the other hand, offered apologies often. Eventually, I had to tell her that she was forgiven and forbidden to apologize again or I’d yell at her. She laughed and said she would never ask again but that she was going to make it up to us. I didn’t even want to know what she meant by that but nodded anyway just to get her off our case.
Jules and I thought about visiting Jesse’s mom and dad but knew that it would be inappropriate, causing them additional pain they really didn’t need but we still wanted them to know that we didn’t blame them, not in the slightest. They were good people who just happened to have a messed up son. We saw them at the grocery store once, together, and nodded with a solemn smile. They returned the favor but with tears in their eyes.
Danny told us to move on.
“Jesse drowned in that water boy. Stop creating problems for yourself. Live your life. Enjoy your girl,” he finally demanded of me after weeks of me hounding for details on the open case. I knew he was working hard to find him and just wanted us to try getting some peace from the whole ordeal.
I knew that, more than likely, Jesse had drowned in the freezing water that day but it haunted me that they couldn’t find his body. I tried really hard to focus on living life but it was difficult with the hole in my shoulder staring back at me in the mirror every day.
After two months, though, and Jesse never showing, Jules and I started to become a lot more comfortable and eventually we thought about him less and less.
While I was recovering in the hospital, Jules and I had to spend New Year’s Eve with our families inside my hospital room. Let’s just say, it wasn’t the most romantic night of our lives. So, Jules and I had decided that once we were well enough, we would go to the rock bridge and celebrate the New Year on our own.
“We’ll just pretend,” she grinned as I drove, for the first time since our injuries, toward the creek. “I have a surprise for you too.”
“Surprising me again at the rock bridge Jules?”
“I guess so,” she mused.
Jules had her picnic basket full to the brim and I couldn’t wait for our little party to start.
“That basket better be full of food honey. I’ve been deprived of some awesome stuff and I’m tired of waiting,” I teased.
“No worries!” She said patting the side of the basket, “I have you covered Elliott. Trust me. It’s all warm too. It was a lot of work but worth it. It’s a late Christmas gift as well.”
I brought a gift for you too, I smirked to myself before my thoughts turned one hundred and eighty degrees to answer.
“You’re surviving was gift enough for the rest of our lives,” I shuddered. “How’s the scar?” I whispered.
“Healing.”
Jules didn’t like talking about the night at Blackwater Falls. I didn’t blame her and didn’t want to push her, but I wanted to make sure she was moving on in a healthy way so I would periodically bring it up to her. ‘Healing’ was a better answer than the shrug she had given me last time. It was progress so I dropped it at that.
“Jules?” I asked
“Hmm?” she answered, her eyes staring at the trees along the road, distracted by her thoughts.
“We’re here, love.”
sped down the highway, Jules looked for the nearest hospital. She said she saw a sign on the way up here not too far away for a Davis Memorial Hospital. She said she took note of it, wanting to prepare herself for all possibilities.
We pulled into the snow blanketed parking lot and parked at the covered ambulance entrance to the emergency room before the truck’s heater even had a chance to kick in. The sun was just starting to rise behind us in the brightest red and orange colors.
