Lovefest, p.14
Lovefest, page 14
July 4, 1969
PROVINCETOWN, MASSACHUSETTS
“What’s your bag?” Bev asked.
“What?” Jean asked.
“You. Do you need to be such a drag?”
“Don’t you find it ironic they call it Independence Day?” Jean asked.
“Heavy, Jean. Can’t we just chill today?” Linda asked.
Ellie felt Jean’s frustration mounting. She instinctively slipped her hand into Jean’s and squeezed. “Why don’t we take a walk?” she suggested.
“Sure,” Jean said.
Ellie led Jean out of the house and toward the beach.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I don’t want to ruin your day.”
“Ruin my day?” Ellie squeezed Jean’s hand. “How would you do that?”
Jean groaned. “I can’t help it sometimes. It’s like Bev and Linda think I should forget about the rest of the world.”
Ellie walked hand in hand with Jean to the water’s edge.
“Do you think I’m a drag?”
“I love that you care so much about people you’ve never met.”
“Maybe it’s pointless,” Jean said.
“You don’t believe that.”
“No. But maybe they’re right. What good is it for me to be upset about things?”
“Don’t let them make you question your feelings,” Ellie said.
“How do you do that?” Jean asked.
“What did I do?”
“You have this way of making everything—better.”
“I do?”
Jean nodded. “I’m serious, Ellie. I don’t want to ruin your Fourth of July. We can go back, and I’ll keep quiet.”
“Don’t,” Ellie said. “I don’t want you to be quiet for me. And I’m happy to spend time with you here—alone.”
Jean looked around the beach. It wasn’t overcrowded, but more people were milling about than she cared to contend with. She pulled on Ellie’s hand. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
Ellie blushed.
“Oh. No. I’m not trying to—”
“It’s okay,” Ellie said. “Lead the way.”
They walked down the beach silently for a few minutes, Jean guiding Ellie toward a line of tall sand dunes. “It’s quieter here,” Jean said. “I come here with my guitar sometimes when I want to think.” She pulled Ellie to sit beside her. “Ellie?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay? I feel like a jerk after last night.”
“Do you wish we hadn’t—you know?”
“What?” Jean asked. “No. I mean, I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you.”
Ellie grinned shyly.
“I never want you to think I expect something from you, and this morning—well, I shouldn’t have let Bev get under my skin. I should have paid attention to you.”
“Jean?”
“Yes?”
“I know you—you know—have gone all the way before. And I know everyone here is more—well, experienced than me.”
Jean leaned over and kissed Ellie’s cheek. “There’s only one person I want to be with, Ellie.” She pulled Ellie to sit between her legs.
“I enjoy listening to you,” Ellie said.
“You mean with the guitar?”
“Yes. But I like hearing you talk about the world.”
“You do?”
Ellie leaned into Jean’s embrace and held Jean’s hands around her. “I’d rather be here with you than getting blitzed at the house. You can tell me what you were trying to explain to Bev.”
“We don’t need to talk about politics. I don’t mind just holding you,” Jean said.
“You can hold me and tell me.”
“Do you really want to hear me talk about the war and racism?”
“If it matters to you.”
Jean kissed Ellie’s head. “Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay with me again tonight? We don’t have to—”
Ellie lifted Jean’s hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll stay any night you want me to.”
“That might be a lot of nights.”
Ellie turned in Jean’s arms. “Any night.”
The breeze blew Ellie’s hair into her eyes, and Jean tucked it behind Ellie’s ear. “I don’t want to talk about war.” She kissed Ellie softly.
“Make love, not war?” Ellie asked.
Jean’s eyes flickered with desire. “Something like that.” She flipped Ellie beneath her.
Ellie reached up and pulled Jean in for a heated kiss.
“I should warn you,” Jean said. “This could get a little sandy.”
Ellie giggled. “Then I guess we’ll have to shower.”
Jean’s lips trailed down Ellie’s neck as Ellie’s fingers weaved into her tousled hair. Her hands roamed over Ellie’s body, tracing the curves of her hips and thighs.
The sun was high in the sky, heating the sand beneath them. A jolt of desire stirred in Ellie’s stomach as tiny grains of sand prickled against her skin. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the strange sensation. Jean’s hand slipped beneath her shirt and cupped her breast, a pleading moan escaped from between Ellie’s lips.
“Oh, God.” Jean sighed. “If I don’t stop this now, we’ll both be naked in the sand.”
They paused for a moment, their heavy breathing filling the silence. Ellie pulled Jean close again, the feel of Jean against her sending shivers down her spine. “Don’t. Stop,” she demanded, surprised by her boldness.
Jean’s thumb circled her nipple, and Ellie’s hips bucked involuntarily. The last of Jean’s control fled. She kissed Ellie passionately and slipped her hand into Ellie’s shorts, stroking her gently.
Ellie closed her eyes and let the heat of the sand shifting beneath her soak through her skin. The salty breeze brought with it the distant laughter from just beyond the privacy of the dunes. Jean’s touch made every sensation, scent, and sound seem more intense. Jean’s fingers deftly edged Ellie closer to the peak of her arousal. Her hips swayed and arched, reaching for something more. She gasped when Jean slipped a finger inside her, and her hips rocked into the gentle rhythm of Jean’s thrusts. She crested without warning, her mouth crashing into Jean’s, swallowing her cries of pleasure. So this is what it meant to feel alive? Ellie lifted her hands to Jean’s face. She kissed Jean’s lips tenderly. “More love, less war,” she whispered, slipping her fingers under the hem of Jean’s shorts.
“Definitely more love.”
PRESENT DAY
COVENTRY, CONNECTICUT
Jean coughed lightly and suppressed a grin as Ellie returned her gaze. Jean knew the wine wasn’t responsible for the blush that crept over Ellie’s cheeks. A memory had swept Ellie away, and Jean was curious to know where Ellie had traveled. “We lost you there for a second.”
“Sorry,” Ellie said. “Wine.” She heard Steve snigger and kicked him lightly under the table. “What did I miss?”
The expression on Ellie’s face tempted Jean to ask what she had missed. She’d revisit that question later when they were alone. “I suggested we could spend next weekend together carving pumpkins. Apparently, Kelsey has a car on campus. She’s offered to make the drive to my house. What do you think? We can invite Jordan and Mary.”
“Then we should invite Bridget and Luke with the kids,” Ellie said.
“Bridget might be working, but I’m sure Luke would bring the kids over.”
“Are you sure?” Ellie asked.
“Am I sure Luke will bring my grandchildren?”
Ellie pursed her lips and rolled her eyes.
“Of course I’m sure. It seems like a perfect way to end your visit,” Jean said.
Jean’s words registered as a potent lump in Ellie’s throat. One more week. She forced herself to smile and look at Steve. “Are you sure you want to subject Kelsey to this?” she teased.
“As long as you don’t mind,” Steve said. “I mean, it’s your last weekend before you go home. We don’t want to intrude or anything.”
Ellie’s eyes went to Jean’s. Jean’s smile surprised and comforted her. She looked back at her grandson and winked. “As long as you try to carve something beyond triangles.”
Steve laughed. “Circles?”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s a start.”
SUNDAY
NORTHAMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS
“You’ve been quiet all day, Ellie. Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?”
“I think you know what’s on my mind.”
“I don’t look forward to you leaving, either,” Jean said.
“Are you sure you want to host a party next weekend with my grandson and his girlfriend as overnight guests?”
“Completely sure.” Jean went to the sofa to sit beside Ellie. “Talk to me.”
“I love you.”
Jean smiled.
“It feels right, Jean—you and me. But it’s more than that. My head screams at me to put one foot in front of the other and take this slowly.”
“But?”
“I can’t bear it—thinking about being apart for months at a time. It makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Ellie, I could have retired years ago. I didn’t because I came home to an empty house. Don’t misunderstand me; my home can sometimes feel like Grand Central Station, but most days, it’s quiet. I am committed to teaching this year. That gives us some time—to put one foot in front of the other, as you put it—before I can move.”
“I don’t expect you to move to California. I hope you know that.”
“If this is going to work for the long haul, one of us will need to make a jump. Not today or tomorrow. I think we both know it’s inevitable,” Jean said.
The knot in Ellie’s stomach tightened.
“For now, we can make the back-and-forth work. I can come to you over the holiday recess. I have nearly a month off and can prep my classes from anywhere.”
“Jean, you can’t spend the entire holiday season in California.”
“We don’t need to decide tonight or this week,” Jean said. “We’ll make it work.”
“I know we will,” Ellie said. “Can I ask you for something?”
“Anything.”
“We’ve spent a lot of time with family and friends this past week.”
Jean knew where Ellie was directing the conversation. “We need some time for us,” she said.
“I need some time with you—just you.”
Jean leaned close and kissed Ellie softly. “Done.”
“I’m not complaining—”
“You’re right,” Jean said. “We need time to be Ellie and Jean—just us. And I’ll make a confession.”
Ellie smirked.
“Not to a priest,” Jean said.
“Go on.”
“I look forward to coming home to be with you—having dinner together. Waking up to see you in the morning without everyone’s chaos or the noise in the world.”
“That might be wishful thinking,” Ellie said.
“Maybe. I can tune out the world for a few days. I don’t need to fill up our time with—”
Ellie silenced Jean with a kiss. “I welcome us having days without plans,” she said. “But I don’t want you to change your life for me, Jean. If Bridget calls or Beth shows up at the door, I expect them to stay and be part of our day—yours and mine. I want you to share the chaos with me.”
“Do you mean the chaos of my days or the chaos in my thoughts?”
“All of it.”
“All of it?”
“Do you want to know what I thought about yesterday while we were at the vineyard with the kids?” Ellie asked.
“If you want to tell me.”
“I thought about the Fourth of July.”
“The Fourth of July we spent together?” Jean asked.
“That would be the one, yes.”
“It was a sandy day, as I recall.”
Ellie laughed. “I thought about that, too.”
“Too?”
“Mm. We were at your place, and the conversation had turned to war and peace. Bev remarked that life was pointless without freedom. You replied that freedom was also pointless without life. I never forgot what you said to her that day. You told her that any nation that believes only some lives matter can never be free, and it didn’t matter whether those people lived inside the same lines or far away—life is the first word in the phrase, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
“You remember that?”
“I’ve always loved to hear you talk about how you see the world. I was attracted to you immediately. I fell in love with you because of your heart.”
“Ellie.”
“It’s a fact.”
“You didn’t always agree with me,” Jean said.
“No. And I’m sure I won’t agree with you about some things now. But I know everything you believe is because you care. It didn’t just make me love you; it made me desire you.”
Jean’s skin flushed.
“Surprised I’d say that?” Ellie asked.
“You’ve always taken me by surprise, Ellie—in the best of ways. Here, I thought you were having torrid thoughts yesterday while Kelsey drilled me about ethics in journalism.”
“Oh, I had plenty of thoughts,” Ellie replied.
Jean laughed.
“I don’t want you to hold back with me, Jean. We both held back in different ways when we were young. You were afraid of hurting me, and I was afraid of disappointing you.”
“You could never disappoint me.”
“I think we both know that’s not true. We held back, and it caused the very thing we both feared. We were both left disappointed and hurt.” Ellie held up a hand. “This last week has been the best week of my life. That might sound selfish and ridiculous. I’m not saying it means more than having my kids or seeing my grandchildren born. And I will always regard the time we spent together that summer as the most amazing experience of my youth. But I couldn’t give you then what I can now, and the biggest part of that is openness. I know we have things to work through—parts of each other and our lives we have yet to discover.”
“But?”
“I’m happier than I’ve ever been because I’m not afraid of disappointing anyone—of disappointing you. I know who I am, how I feel, and what I want from my life. Back then, I could never feel the same happiness because fear and regret stood in the way. I love to hear you talk about your beliefs and feelings. I fell in love with you—all of you.”
“Even my brownies?”
Ellie laughed.
“I know. Beth’s are better than mine. I hear you, Ellie. I warn you. Debates in this house when my students visit can get—animated.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Ellie chuckled.
“I was listening,” Jean said. “I agree. We need to be open. You told me that Ed reminded you of me.”
“Not in the sandy kind of way,” Ellie teased.
Jean laughed.
Ellie took a deep breath. “He told me more than once that you and I would cross paths again.”
Jean’s eyes widened.
“Mm. He did. Ed was sensitive to others. Intuitive, too. And he cared about what happened in the world—the big world, not only his world. A lot like you,” Ellie said and sighed.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t. There are things I haven’t told you—things I’m not particularly eager to discuss. We had a good life together,” Ellie said. “It wasn’t without its share of pain.”
“I think that’s the case for everyone.”
“I know it is. We had a rough time for a few years. That’s probably an understatement.”
“We don’t have to talk about this now,” Jean said.
“It’s all right. I haven’t told many people this story. And I haven’t discussed it with anyone in years. It was the worst time in my life, Jean. Kathie had just turned twelve when we learned I was pregnant. I couldn’t believe it happened. The last thing on my mind was having more children, but I was thrilled. Ed worked so many hours, and I’ll be honest, it was hard sometimes. Teaching helped. But the kids were getting older—busy with friends and activities. It could be lonely. I was excited about another baby and looking forward to becoming a parent in my thirties. I was only twenty-three when I had Jack. So young. I’d learned so much in thirteen years.” Ellie smiled. “It felt like a blessing—an unexpected gift. I’d just entered my second trimester.” Ellie closed her eyes and readied herself to tell Jean the story. “I started bleeding. There was nothing anyone could do.”
“Oh, Ellie.”
“It was horrible. We hadn’t told the kids anything about the baby yet. We wanted to tell them on Jack’s birthday. No one could seem to tell us why it happened. I didn’t handle it well. I withdrew from Ed completely.” Ellie felt Jean’s hand slip into hers and squeeze gently. “I managed to get myself to work and deal with the kids’ needs—make their dinners and shuttle them to their activities. But I couldn’t look at Ed. If he tried to touch me, I recoiled. It didn’t matter if it was a hug or an advance. Being touched made me feel sick inside. Everything hurt. The only time I felt close to that amount of pain was when I left you.”
“Ellie.”
“It’s true. I made it to class and finished my work after I left you, but for months, I sat in my room and cried. Everything hurt—like I’d lost a piece of myself. Ed helped pull me out of my depression. But when I lost the baby? It was irrational, but I hated him for a while. He was a constant reminder of the pain. Sex? I couldn’t, Jean. I just couldn’t. I was so afraid.”
“I’m sorry.”
