Through the open French doors, we watched our boyfriends talking in the back yard. They’d never be best friends, but they got along well, as opposite as they appeared.
Lucas had been so sure, when he’d encouraged me to apply for transfer into music performance programs, that we would be fine. He was still sure, and I believed him, but that didn’t mean I wanted a two-year long-distance relationship. Dead-set against me making an academic decision based on his plans, he wouldn’t accept me staying, and he wouldn’t tell me where he’d applied or interviewed for jobs.
“I won’t ask you to give up what you want for me, Jacqueline.”
“But I want you,” I’d mumbled, knowing he was right; I had no logical defense. In some ways, he was his father’s son.
Ray Maxfield had become one of my favorite people. Lucas had taken me home over spring break, and I’d never seen him more nervous. For some reason, though, his father and I hit it off. I could see Lucas’s tutor persona in him—his dry sense of humor and intelligence. The night before we left, Ray rummaged through the beach house attic and brought down a trio of framed watercolors of a small boy playing on the seashore. Rosemary had signed the paintings of her only child in the corners of each—Rosemary Lucas Maxfield. We’d hung them in Lucas’s bedroom, over his desk.
Even stranger, Ray was sitting outside with Charles and Cindy. He’d taken a break from the fishing boat for his son’s graduation—his first since he’d left Alexandria.
***
“I accepted a job on Friday.”
This was it. After applying for dozens of jobs during his final semester, Lucas had several interviews, and a few second interviews. A week ago, I’d overheard Charles telling Cindy that he’d gotten a solid offer from an engineering firm in town. I’d been waiting for him to tell me.
When I left for Oberlin in August, we would be twelve hundred miles apart.
“Oh?” I avoided looking at him, afraid I would burst into tears.
Stuffing the leftovers Cindy sent with us into his fridge, I made no further comment, and he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me. Finally, everything was stored away, and I couldn’t delay the inevitable any further.
At the look on my face, he caught my hand. “C’mere.”
As he led me to the sofa, I blinked back tears and gave myself a stern lecture that mostly consisted of stop crying stop crying stop crying.
Leaning into the corner, he pulled me into his arms. I halfway listened as he relayed the technical aspects of the job, the size of the company, the impressive pay, and the start date—the second week in July. Mostly I was wondering how often I would have the time to fly home. Free weekends were almost unheard of as a music student. Mandatory recitals and performances to perform or attend were unremitting.
“So my only question is this—do I want to live in Oberlin and commute to Cleveland, or live near Cleveland and commute to you?” His head propped on one bent arm, he gazed at me, waiting.
I blinked. “What?”
He smiled innocently. “Oh—didn’t I tell you that part? The company’s located in Cleveland.”
“Cleveland, Ohio? You accepted a job in Cleveland, Ohio?” Cleveland was just over half an hour away from the college.
“I did.”
My eyes filled with tears. “But, why?”
Arching a brow, he brought his free arm down and hooked my hair behind my ear. “You heard the pay, right? And also, to be near you.” Thumbing a tear from my cheek, he added, “Mostly, to be near you.”
I considered everything I’d learned from following Kennedy, everything Lucas had sworn he’d never ask of me. “But all that stuff you said about me not giving up what I want to be or what I want to do to be with you—doesn’t that apply to you, too?”
He cupped my face in his palm and stared into my eyes, sighing. “First, this is a great job, and I’m excited about it.” When he tugged me closer and kissed me, I leaned across his chest, one hand slipping under his t-shirt. I forgot that he hadn’t finished his explanation until he whispered into my mouth, “Second, I’m ambitious, but I can succeed almost anywhere.” Standing, he continued kissing me as he carried me into his room. When he let me slide from his arms to the floor, I yanked my tank top off, scooting into the center of the bed and watching him pull his t-shirt over his head. I could put him on replay doing that and watch it all day… if I didn’t know what was coming next.
Crawling up from the foot of the bed, he lay over me slowly, dragging both of my arms above my head, gently, as he had the very first time he sketched me. With one hand, he crossed and secured my wrists. He’d taught me every possible way to escape this hold, but there was no way I wanted to get away. He was in a slow-motion mood—one of my favorites, though it meant I’d be driven crazy before we were done. I chewed the edge of my lip in anticipation.
He stared down at me, and I examined his beautiful eyes up close, something I’d never tire of doing. “What I can’t do anywhere is be with you.” Leaning closer, he ran his tongue over my lips and his fingertips over my skin until I arched up and captured his mouth with mine.
He released my wrists, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling our hearts beat in sync as lips followed a meandering path from my ear down. “Choosing to be with you isn’t a difficult decision, Jacqueline,” he breathed, pulling back one final time to stare into my eyes. “It’s easy. Incredibly easy.”