Page 14 of Cocky Origins: May and Jerald Cocker

“No, I am as grounded as they come.”

“Isn’t she cute?”

He laughs, “A pretty girl who likes bugs. Never thought I’d see the day. You are a rare one.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I blush, pleased.

He points his hat toward the yard. “It flew away.”

Trying to spot it I lean in my chair, squinting into the night. “See? It flew. Grasshoppers jump.”

“So they do.”

“Those cicadas? Their song now has one happy katydid.”

Jerald smiles, but it disappears. His profile becomes serious, thoughts someplace far, far away. Instinct is telling me that he’s thinking about the war. I’ve seen this look on some of the boys who’ve returned home, wounded in battle. They stare off just like that.

I whisper, “Aren’t you ever frightened? I would be.”

He pauses like he might admit he is, but then shakes his head, voice deep. “Never. I’m never scared.”

“You must be very brave.”

Jerald’s hat becomes motionless for the first time since he sat down, since we walked out here even. “Lives are in my hands, May. If I were scared, what kind of a sailor would I be?”

I don’t dare give a response because none seems fitting. We stare at each other until my lips part without my knowing it at first. I’m made aware by the fall of his gaze to them, and I get this funny feeling in my belly, a warmth I have never known. It drifts down until it’s all I can think about.

Jerald bites his lower lip, concentrating. We stand up without speaking and he drops his hat on the rocking chair with a soft thump. I stay right here, heart fluttering.

“May, I hardly think this is proper but I’m going to say it anyway. I wanted to kiss you when you fainted in my arms. And I want to again, right now. But you can’t let me.”

“Can’t I?”

His voice is huskier as it comes a little closer. “You sure can’t.”

Why can’t I kiss him? That’s the only thing I want to do!

So I close my eyes.

Heart pounding.

9

JERALD

Sable opens the front door to announce, “I made sandwiches,” and gasps.

I step away from potentially damaging May’s reputation.

Her eyelashes flutter open, blue eyes sharpening quickly. “I got a spider web in my eye, Sabes.” Rubbing it, she turns around. “Jerald was helping me remove it.”

Sable drolly says, “And here I thought you were necking on my porch in front of the neighbors. You know the ones who have big mouths?”

“We weren’t necking.” May walks on ahead, “Yet.”

“Then I arrived just in time!” Sable looks at me from over her glasses with a warning.

I drag a hand through my hair, grab my hat and follow the girls in, floor boards creaking. I sure do like how May handled that. She’s a smart cookie.

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