Looking After You

(45) Ages: 21 & 18

Ages: 21 & 18

“Jameson, where the hell are you going?” Jenny cried as James turned down yet another gravel road ten miles in the opposite direction of the grocery store they had been sent to. “Your dad is going to be pissed if we’re not back at the house with that basil for the pesto sauce.”

Slamming on the brakes in the middle of a deserted back road, James yanked his truck into park. “I think they can handle waiting another ten minutes to eat their linguini.” He commented sarcastically before turning to face Jenny who had just finished rolling her eyes.

“You really should have just let me drive if you can’t even find your way to the grocery store.” She commented bitterly with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah, we tried that once before, remember? I nearly lost my truck and you lost your appendix.”

“And you’ve lost your mind!” She screamed as she turned to face him, her left leg curled beneath her right. “Why are we here?”

“I want to talk to you and since you obviously have no intention of explaining why you hate my guts so damn much, I figured stranding us ten miles away from home with nowhere to run and no one to interrupt our conversation was my last option.”

“Well, you’re going to be having a long conversation with yourself then because I’ve said all I need to say.” She placed her left leg back onto the truck floorboard and faced out the windshield with her arms still guarding her chest.

“Fine, if that’s the way you feel then all I need you to do is answer my questions. No avoiding, no running, no deflecting with smartass comments.” She shrugged in silence and James took a breath. “I talked to your dad that day at his house.”

Jenny’s mouth dropped in shock as she placed her eyes back on his once again. “That’s not a question, Jameson. What did you talk about?”

“Do you hate me because of what your father did?”

Jenny shrunk back as if she had just been slapped, but she wasn’t sure why, she really didn’t even understand his question, but she knew her father had said too much. “What? Why would I hate you because of what my dad did? One has nothing to do with the other.”

“Because you know I would never do what your father did, right?”

She stared at him a moment but her face slowly went slack and she could no longer maintain eye contact.

“Jenny,” James commanded sternly, desperate for an answer.

“I know that!” She yelled out of frustration, her throat burning as tears began filling her eyes. “Of course I know you would never do that, I know that better than anything. The idea of you hurting me intentionally, ever, is so unbelievable that my mind cannot even imagine the idea of it.” Despite the moisture filling her eyes and the burning sensation scorching her throat, Jenny’s voice was level and confident.

James scratched the back of his head, a small pleased smile playing on his lips. “Now I’m really confused.”

“Don’t you get it?” She pleaded; her voice breaking. “My mother would have said the exact same thing about my father eighteen years ago and eighteen years ago my father probably believed it.”

He slid his hand across the leather seat of the truck and placed it on top of Jenny’s. “No one knows what’s going to happen in eighteen years, Jenny. That doesn’t mean you destroy what you want now for fear it might not be what you want two decades from now.” He laughed humorlessly as he squeezed her hand. “Do you honestly believe your parents would take back any of the last eighteen years if they could?”