The Understorey (The Leaving #1)

The Understorey (The Leaving #1) Page 41

“And you plan on marrying him Julia?” A random aunt asked.

“Yes ma’am,” Jules said with confidence.

The entire kitchen was quiet until Jules interrupted the silence, “I have never been so sure of anything in my entire life. I am unwavering on the subject.”

“Well, she certainly is confident,” said memaw Joan E. “I see it in you child. I see what you so passionately proclaim. I also see it in him too. Of that, I’m sure.”

Good old memaw Joan E, I liked her.

“It’s awfully young to feel so certain,” an aunt said. “People change as they grow older and mature Julia.”

“Let me ask the entire room a question,” said Jules. “My entire life, have I ever been hasty? Don’t I bide my time? Aren’t I careful when I make big decisions?”

No one answered. That was a good sign.

“Yes dear, but there is a first time for everything,” Jules’ mom said.

Suddenly, I felt as if I was intruding. It was so ungentlemanly of me to be listening to this. I felt the urge to stand up and leave but my body might as well have been made of lead.

“You’re right mama,” Jules said.

What?  Jules, what are saying?

“But,” she continued.

Whew.

“But you forget, we’re not looking to get married right out of high school. We both have big college plans and we don’t want my getting pregnant to hinder them. We’ve decided to wait until we graduate university.”

You’ve decided to wait until we graduate university.

“Who knows,” said the same doubting aunt to the room, “as long as they plan on waiting, she could change her mind or he could.”

“I have no doubts, but I won’t try to change anyone’s minds. I have made my choice and I am confident that he has as well. Time, in this case, is on our side. It will show you our devotion.”

“Whoo! I like your spunk Julia!” Said memaw Joan E.

All the women settled from the subject onto the next and I could feel the tension release from Jules’ body. I continued reading and eventually dozed off, my book in my lap.

I awoke to the voice of an angel. Jules had gathered my book, saved my place and sat next to me on the loveseat.

She spoke softly into my groggy ear, “‘The Writings of Abraham Lincoln, Volume One’? Now, that my dear, is manly reading.”

I kept my hazy eyes closed but I could assemble a half smile for her wit’s sake.

“Dinner’s ready,” she blew in my ear.

I was awake.

After grace, everyone sat, enjoyed the food and one another’s company. It was a lively evening that lasted well into the early morning hours. I became so familiar with each family member that they harassed me as one of their own and I loved it.

After dinner, everyone lounged in the living room as we all decided if we should play a game or not. Isabel suggested charades and we all agreed.

“Uh, I’m terrible at charades,” I said leaning into Jules.

“No, you’re not. I hate false modesty,” she said. “Just admit when you’re good at something. No one will think any less of you unless you’re an ass about it. Repeat after me.”

“Repeat after me,” I said.

“No, stop.”

“No, stop.”

She waited for me to stop and I did.

“I, Elliott Gray,” she said.

“I, Elliott Gray,” I said.

“Am super fantastic.”

“I’m not saying that,” I said.

“Come on! Am super fantastic.”

I sighed.

“Am super fantastic,” I gave in.

“At kissing Jules.”

“At kissing Jules.”

“At bugging Jules.”

“At buggin’ Jules,” I chuckled.

“At touching Jules,” she joked.

“I’m not saying that,” I said

“Okay.....at matters of the heart,” she conceded.

“At matters of the heart.”

“At matters of the mind.”

“At matters of the mind,” I said.

“At matters of right and wrong,”

“I’m not super fantastic at that but I guess I’ll say it anyway. At matters of right and wrong.”

“And last but not least,” she said.

“And last but not least,” I repeated.

“At........eavesdropping on old women cooking Thanksgiving dinner in their kitchen.”

“You knew I was doing that?” I asked coyly.

“Of course, doofus. I almost thought about making it as miserable for you as possible but I would have freaked out my family if I had done that. Consider yourself lucky, I was going to say something like, he’s just a speed bump until I get to Philadelphia and find my real husband’. You know, things like that.”

I almost died laughing.

“You’re too competent to be with such a goof, Jules.”

“Please, I’m intimidated on a daily basis by your intelligence. I think we make it work so well because that’s what God wants of us. So, I chuck it all up to Him. I’m pretty darn happy so I guess we’re doing something right.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Okay! This half of the room is on one team, this half, on the other,” said Isabel. “Julia, heads or tails?”

“Heads.”

She flipped the coin.

“Tails.”

“Aw, shucks,” Jules said.

“It’s okay Jules,” I said.

“It’s okay Jules,” everyone mocked and burst into laughter.

A few made gagging noises.

“Okay, okay! Head in the game ‘heads’!” Jules shouted.

The game went on until two thirty in the morning. I could barely hold my head up but didn’t want to be the first to turn in. Jules’ family was so fun as well and I didn’t want to miss out.

“We’ve got to get to bed,” said Jules, reading my body language. “We’re shopping tomorrow, remember?”

The men groaned but the ladies cheered and with that, we all went to bed full and very content.

Chapter Six

Hindsight’s Twenty-Twenty

I am particularly practical when it comes to most things in my life. In my opinion, things are generally black and white. If you push A into B you get C, basically a proponent of the laws of nature. Jules, however, possessed a sixth sense about the grey area I knew nothing about. She had theories that supported the idea that pushing A into B could possibly get you C,D, and even E and being the blockhead I was, I grossly underestimated this talent of hers, until that is, we returned from our trip to Mauch Chunk.

The day we left was a day of horrid goings on in Bramwell, West Virginia. Jesse Thomas, Taylor Williams, and a very desperate and empty Marisa Hartford crammed their tiny minds together and were plotting against Jules and I with adult size weaponry; ammunition that the experts in their associated fields handled with kid gloves, never mind two hateful humans and their idiotic apprentice.

I wouldn’t even give Marisa that much credit. She was more of a minion of sorts. Though her involvement was minor, her part held the most excruciating effects and unfortunately she was too stupid to realize how deeply she was implicated in the entire process. That was, in my opinion, most decidedly by design on Jesse’s part.

Marisa Hartford belonged to a family of equine veterinarians. Apparently, the intelligent gene skipped her generation as she was the only child and one of her family, knowing what I do about the Hartfords, lacking in the fortitude to weigh the pros and cons of assisting in a highly dangerous and highly illegal crime. I will give Marisa credit where credit is due though, she had no idea what Taylor and Jesse were doing with the help she afforded them, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The Hartford family is a decent family. They lived moderately and had no need or want for anything. It is definitely a possibility that they are one of the wealthiest families in Bluefield, but they are frugal. They don’t squander their profits like most families do and by far and away, excluding Marisa. They are a family of morals.

Those morals were lost on Marisa. She chose to help the imbeciles against her better judgment and for what do you ask? For further social rank in a high school she was less than a year from never seeing again.

Marisa worked two evenings a week, usually Friday and Saturday evenings, if she wasn’t cheering, to help out at her family’s equestrian practice. Here, she would answer phones and make appointments. Marisa, legally, along with her family’s careful practice and procedures, had absolutely no access to any of the medicines her grandfather or father kept on hand at their office. These seemingly harmless, yet potent glass viles were kept under lock and key and regularly inventoried.

Every day, Marisa’s grandfather would take his lunch at the exact same hour each day and leave the keys to the metal and glass cabinet inside a locked drawer in his hundred year old desk. The key to this desk hung on a ring that he kept with him at all times. The good doctor felt safe in thinking there would be no way those viles could be stolen, short of breaking the cabinet itself. At the end of his work day, he would place that key ring in a bowl on a table in his foyer.

Two weeks prior to Thanksgiving break, Marisa Hartford snuck into the foyer when she knew no one would be around and stole the singular key that opened the desk to gain access to the keys to the cabinet that held the tiny viles she so hazardously required.

“I’m gonna’ get the mail,” she screamed to her mother in the kitchen.

“No need. I’ve already gotten it,” her mother said, but Marisa pretended not to hear.

She walked to the end of her hundred yard driveway, the burning ember of a lit cigarette, her only guide.

“Jesse?” She asked.

“Don’t say my name, stupid.”

“Sorry,” she apologized.

She handed him the key.

“I’ll be back in an hour. Keep your cell phone on,” he ordered and rushed to his Mustang parked a hundred feet away.

Marisa hung her head back toward the house and opened the door.

“I told you Marisa, I’d already gotten the mail.”

“Oh,” Marisa lied, “I didn’t hear you.”

Marisa felt a stone settle heavily in the pit of her stomach. It was a stone heavy with shame and she would continue to add more and more, eventually weighing herself down enough that she would forget to eat by the week’s end.

Marisa received a text from Jesse Thomas thirty minutes later, telling her to meet him at her bedroom window. She quietly went to her room and was back out in less than five seconds with the key in hand. She acted as though she was searching for something on the foyer table and made enough noise to distract the family from her true task. She replaced the key back into the exact order she found it and walked into the kitchen acting as cheerfully as she could without arising suspicion.

The next day at school, Marisa met Jesse outside of her car to pick up the key he had made. She could have taken the key that night but she didn’t want to take the risk of owning that on a night she was acting strangely as it was. You see, Marisa’s mom checked up on her thoroughly. I’m guessing she saw a deficiency in her daughter and didn’t know how to compensate and Marisa knew this. She took the key from Jesse and he barely acknowledged her.