Route 66

6 Kiss Me

Blake drove to a serene hilltop with a beautiful view of the glowing Minneapolis skyline. The radio was tuned to a doo-wop station as we parked at a scenic overlook. We strolled over to the edge and took in the view as the crisp, night air blew past my cheek. The contrast of the quiet woods surrounding us and the bustling city, which appeared close enough to reach out and touch, was surreal.

Blake gently reached over and held my hand as I gazed into his eyes and smiled. Suddenly, with a burst of wind, puffy snowflakes started to fall as Earth Angel serenaded us from the truck. I tilted my head back and caressed his neck as he wrapped his strong arms around my waist and kissed me.

I've never felt so loved.

In the following weeks I floated through life in sheer bliss with a permanent smile. I called my parents briefly to tell them about Blake who was just perfect for me and Mom shared my excitement while Dad was not quite as enthusiastic. I wrote long letters detailing my university experience and how I missed their direction and support but also developing judgment and independence. And of course, expressed my excitement about all the football games I was going to and the electrified atmosphere at the stadium when we were winning.

Mom wrote back with updates on life in Winona and that they both missed me terribly and were wondering if Blake could join us for Christmas since his parents would be in Europe. Blake told me that he'd like nothing better than to spend the holidays with his Earth angel.

Annette and I drove back together for Thanksgiving break and although it was good to be home, Blake was constantly in my thoughts. Mom and Dad, of course, asked what felt like a hundred questions about our relationship. It got to a point where I felt like telling them it was none of their business but then reminded myself that they had nothing but the best intentions for me, so I bit my tongue.

I met up with Paul and Annette to spend time in our old hang outs and talk about how things had changed and how some things stayed the same and how it didn't feel quite the same as it had back in high school. Even though we went to the same malt shop, and ordered exactly the same thing, there was no way we could recapture our experiences of just one year ago. It had a different feel. The high schoolers now appeared so young and immature. They looked up to us as the wiser, hipper college students.

I remembered not too long ago being in the same position, idolizing my friends who came back on break and asking about college life. It seemed to me that the end of high school was the end of everything.

High school had been like rowing a boat in a calm ocean; a gentle breeze ruffling your hair and beach music playing in the background. The sun is bright and you hear the laughter of others around you. The lifeguard makes sure everyone is safe.

Looking forward you notice a dark mass stretching across the entire horizon which at first glance is mistaken for land. As you approach, you realize it's still the ocean but not the calm, cheerful body of water that you're so accustomed to but has monstrously morphed into a dark, violent, swirling mass of liquid rage, fed by torrential rain. Thirty foot waves approach with no end in sight and you can't see what lies beyond because they're so enormous. You glance back at the safety of the serene, predictable ocean of the past but know that you must forge ahead into the unknown.

Blake called me every day and must have run his long distance bill into oblivion since he lived in the northern part of Minnesota. Those calls, without a doubt, were the most exhilarating part of my day. Sometimes, my parents asked to speak with him and I could tell that he made a good impression because Dad didn't have anything gruff to say. He even said on one occasion that Blake seemed like an upstanding young man.

Without Blake the break seemed to go on forever and I couldn't wait to get back to Minneapolis. When it was over I ran into his arms and kissed him as if he had been away to war for three years. I just didn't know WHAT I would do without him.

December went by quickly and Christmas break came upon us sooner than expected. Annette had left two days earlier and I was nervous and excited to be sitting with Blake in his truck as we drove to Winona two days before Christmas. I prayed that he would get the stamp of approval from Mom but especially from Dad. Blake was clothed in dress slacks with a collared shirt and tie for the three hour trip. He really wanted to make a good impression.

The landscape changed from relatively flat to hilly as we approached the last hour of the drive. We stopped for a break on a bluff overlooking a vast valley and lake coated in sugary snow. The whole scene was reminiscent of a beautiful winter wonderland.

Blake wrapped his arms around me and said, "Do you think your parents will approve?"

I nodded and said, "They'll love you Blake, I just know it. You're Catholic and play football, a real man's man. That scores big points with my dad, and besides, he told me he thought you were upstanding," I said with a wink.

"Hope so Veronica, I love you so much it hurts."

"Love you too," I whispered as our lips met in a soft, sensual kiss.