Black Hills
Page 16
Lil sat up a little straighter. “Not just. Mom-”
“You know we love him. He’s a good young man, and I know you care about each other. I also know that you’re not children anymore, and when you feel more than friendship, things happen. Sex happens,” Jenna corrected, ordering herself to stop being a coward.
“It hasn’t. Yet.”
“Good. That’s good, because if it does, I want both of you to be prepared, to be safe.” She reached in her pocket and took out a box of condoms. “To be protected.”
“Oh.” Lil just stared at them, as dumbfounded as her mother had been by the equations. “Oh. Um.”
“Some girls consider this the boy’s responsibility. My girl is smart and self-aware, and will always look after herself, rely on herself. I wish you’d wait, I can’t help wishing you’d wait. But if you don’t, I want you to promise me you’ll use protection.”
“I will. I promise. I want to be with him, Mom. When I am-I mean just with him, I feel all this… this,” she said lamely. “In my heart, and in my stomach, in my head. Everything’s fluttering around so I can barely breathe. And when he kisses me, it’s like, Oh, that’s what’s it supposed to be. I want to be with him,” she repeated. “He pulls back because he’s not sure I’m really ready. But I am.”
“You’ve just made me feel a lot better about him. A lot better knowing he’s not pressuring you.”
“I think it might be, sort of, the other way around.”
Jenna managed a weak laugh. “Lil, we’ve talked before, about sex, safety, responsibility, those feelings. And you’ve grown up on a farm. But if there’s anything you’re not sure of, or want to talk about, you know you can talk to me.”
“Okay. Mom, does Dad know you’re giving me condoms?”
“Yes. We talked about it. You know you can talk to him, too, but-”
“Oh, yeah, big but. It’d feel really weird.”
“On both sides.” Jenna patted Lil’s thigh as she rose. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t. Mom? Thanks for loving me.”
“Never a problem.”
***
RELY ON YOURSELF, Lil thought. Her mother was right, as usual, she decided as she packed provisions. A woman had to have a plan, that was the key. What to do, when and how to do it. She’d made the arrangements. Maybe Coop didn’t know all of them, but the element of surprise was also key.
She put the packs in the truck, grateful that her parents had gone to town, so there didn’t have to be any awkward be carefuls, even if they were unspoken.
She wondered if Coop’s grandparents knew what was going on. Really going on. She’d opted not to ask her mother that one. Talk about awkward.
Didn’t matter, don’t care, she thought as she drove with the wind shooting through the open windows. She had three days free. Probably her last in a row for the summer. In another few weeks she’d be on her way north, on her way to college. And another phase of her life would begin.
She wasn’t leaving until she’d finished this phase.
She’d thought she’d be nervous, but she wasn’t. Excited, happy, but not nervous. She knew what she was doing-in theory-and was ready to put it into practice.
She turned the radio up and sang along as she drove through the hills, passed tidy farms and pastures. She saw men mending fences, and clothes flapping on lines. She stopped-she couldn’t help herself-to take pictures and some quick notes when she spotted a good-sized herd of buffalo.
She arrived at the farm in time to see Coop saddling up. She hitched on her pack, grabbed the second, then gave a whistle.
“What’s all that?”
“Some surprises,” she called out as he walked over to help her.
“Jesus, Lil, it looks like enough for a week. We’re only going to be a few hours.”
“You’ll thank me later. Where is everybody?”
“My grandparents had to run into town. They should be on their way back, but they said not to wait if we were ready before.”
“Believe me, I’m ready.” She hugged that exciting secret inside. “Oh, I talked to my college roommate today.” Lil checked the cinches on the mare’s saddle. “We got our dorm assignments, and she called, just to touch base. She’s from Chicago, and she’ll be studying animal husbandry and zoology. I think we’re going to get along. I hope. I’ve never shared a room before.”
“Not much longer now.”
“No.” She mounted. “Not much longer. Do you like your roommate?”
“He stayed stoned pretty much through two years. He didn’t bother me.”
“I’m hoping to make friends. Some people make friends in college that stay friends all the rest of their lives.” They moved at an easy pace, all the time in the world, under the wide blue plate of sky. “Did you get stoned?”
“A couple of times and that was enough. It seemed like the thing to do, and the grass was right there. He’s all, Dude, fire one up,” Coop said in an exaggerated stoner’s tone that made her laugh. “So why not? Everything seemed pretty funny-and mellow-for a while. Then I was starving and had a headache. It didn’t seem worth it.”
“Is he going to be your roommate again this term?”
“He flunked out, big surprise.”
“You’ll have to break in a new one.”
“I’m not going back.”
“What?” She jerked her mount to a halt to gape, but Coop kept going. She nudged the mare into a trot to catch up. “What do you mean, you’re not going back? Back east?”
“No, back to college. I’m done.”
“But you’ve only-you’ve barely… What happened?”
“Nothing. That’s pretty much the point. I’m not getting anywhere, and it’s not where I want to get, anyway. The whole prelaw shit was my father’s deal. He’ll pay as long as I do it his way. I’m not doing it his way anymore.”
She knew the signs-the tightening of his jaw, the flare in his eyes. She knew the temper, and the bracing for a fight.
“I don’t want to be a lawyer, especially not the kind of corporate stooge in an Italian suit he’s pushing on me. Goddamn it, Lil, I spent the first half of my life trying to please him, trying to get him to notice me, to f**king care. What did it get me? The only reason he’s paid the freight on college is because he has to, but it had to be his way. And he was pissed I didn’t get into Harvard. Jesus, as if.”
“You know we love him. He’s a good young man, and I know you care about each other. I also know that you’re not children anymore, and when you feel more than friendship, things happen. Sex happens,” Jenna corrected, ordering herself to stop being a coward.
“It hasn’t. Yet.”
“Good. That’s good, because if it does, I want both of you to be prepared, to be safe.” She reached in her pocket and took out a box of condoms. “To be protected.”
“Oh.” Lil just stared at them, as dumbfounded as her mother had been by the equations. “Oh. Um.”
“Some girls consider this the boy’s responsibility. My girl is smart and self-aware, and will always look after herself, rely on herself. I wish you’d wait, I can’t help wishing you’d wait. But if you don’t, I want you to promise me you’ll use protection.”
“I will. I promise. I want to be with him, Mom. When I am-I mean just with him, I feel all this… this,” she said lamely. “In my heart, and in my stomach, in my head. Everything’s fluttering around so I can barely breathe. And when he kisses me, it’s like, Oh, that’s what’s it supposed to be. I want to be with him,” she repeated. “He pulls back because he’s not sure I’m really ready. But I am.”
“You’ve just made me feel a lot better about him. A lot better knowing he’s not pressuring you.”
“I think it might be, sort of, the other way around.”
Jenna managed a weak laugh. “Lil, we’ve talked before, about sex, safety, responsibility, those feelings. And you’ve grown up on a farm. But if there’s anything you’re not sure of, or want to talk about, you know you can talk to me.”
“Okay. Mom, does Dad know you’re giving me condoms?”
“Yes. We talked about it. You know you can talk to him, too, but-”
“Oh, yeah, big but. It’d feel really weird.”
“On both sides.” Jenna patted Lil’s thigh as she rose. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t. Mom? Thanks for loving me.”
“Never a problem.”
***
RELY ON YOURSELF, Lil thought. Her mother was right, as usual, she decided as she packed provisions. A woman had to have a plan, that was the key. What to do, when and how to do it. She’d made the arrangements. Maybe Coop didn’t know all of them, but the element of surprise was also key.
She put the packs in the truck, grateful that her parents had gone to town, so there didn’t have to be any awkward be carefuls, even if they were unspoken.
She wondered if Coop’s grandparents knew what was going on. Really going on. She’d opted not to ask her mother that one. Talk about awkward.
Didn’t matter, don’t care, she thought as she drove with the wind shooting through the open windows. She had three days free. Probably her last in a row for the summer. In another few weeks she’d be on her way north, on her way to college. And another phase of her life would begin.
She wasn’t leaving until she’d finished this phase.
She’d thought she’d be nervous, but she wasn’t. Excited, happy, but not nervous. She knew what she was doing-in theory-and was ready to put it into practice.
She turned the radio up and sang along as she drove through the hills, passed tidy farms and pastures. She saw men mending fences, and clothes flapping on lines. She stopped-she couldn’t help herself-to take pictures and some quick notes when she spotted a good-sized herd of buffalo.
She arrived at the farm in time to see Coop saddling up. She hitched on her pack, grabbed the second, then gave a whistle.
“What’s all that?”
“Some surprises,” she called out as he walked over to help her.
“Jesus, Lil, it looks like enough for a week. We’re only going to be a few hours.”
“You’ll thank me later. Where is everybody?”
“My grandparents had to run into town. They should be on their way back, but they said not to wait if we were ready before.”
“Believe me, I’m ready.” She hugged that exciting secret inside. “Oh, I talked to my college roommate today.” Lil checked the cinches on the mare’s saddle. “We got our dorm assignments, and she called, just to touch base. She’s from Chicago, and she’ll be studying animal husbandry and zoology. I think we’re going to get along. I hope. I’ve never shared a room before.”
“Not much longer now.”
“No.” She mounted. “Not much longer. Do you like your roommate?”
“He stayed stoned pretty much through two years. He didn’t bother me.”
“I’m hoping to make friends. Some people make friends in college that stay friends all the rest of their lives.” They moved at an easy pace, all the time in the world, under the wide blue plate of sky. “Did you get stoned?”
“A couple of times and that was enough. It seemed like the thing to do, and the grass was right there. He’s all, Dude, fire one up,” Coop said in an exaggerated stoner’s tone that made her laugh. “So why not? Everything seemed pretty funny-and mellow-for a while. Then I was starving and had a headache. It didn’t seem worth it.”
“Is he going to be your roommate again this term?”
“He flunked out, big surprise.”
“You’ll have to break in a new one.”
“I’m not going back.”
“What?” She jerked her mount to a halt to gape, but Coop kept going. She nudged the mare into a trot to catch up. “What do you mean, you’re not going back? Back east?”
“No, back to college. I’m done.”
“But you’ve only-you’ve barely… What happened?”
“Nothing. That’s pretty much the point. I’m not getting anywhere, and it’s not where I want to get, anyway. The whole prelaw shit was my father’s deal. He’ll pay as long as I do it his way. I’m not doing it his way anymore.”
She knew the signs-the tightening of his jaw, the flare in his eyes. She knew the temper, and the bracing for a fight.
“I don’t want to be a lawyer, especially not the kind of corporate stooge in an Italian suit he’s pushing on me. Goddamn it, Lil, I spent the first half of my life trying to please him, trying to get him to notice me, to f**king care. What did it get me? The only reason he’s paid the freight on college is because he has to, but it had to be his way. And he was pissed I didn’t get into Harvard. Jesus, as if.”
