Page 53 of A Recipe Called Home

“Ricky,” said Jules.

“Yes, that’s the one. As you know, the boys crashed the car into a ditch near the community center that night. Officers were called to the scene by someone who’d witnessed it. That’s how they were caught.” Jules knew this much. She’d hated Ricky for getting Miles tangled up in his illegal activity.

“By the time they’d arrived, both boys were standing outside of the car, so they couldn’t tell who was actually driving. But Ricky was intoxicated.” She looked at Jules with hooded eyes, trying to convey a point that Jules wasn’t understanding. Everyone knew Miles was driving. That’s why he went to jail; it’s the reason his life spun out of control for so many years. Jules never understood why, though.

“Jules, honey, they didn’t think Miles was driving. They thought it was the other boy. That he had picked Miles up in the stolen car and crashed it because he was drunk. Turns out, his cousin had a warrant, so this would have sent him to jail for a very long time. And Miles knew that. The police tried to get them to tell the truth, but they both stuck to the story that Miles stole the car and swerved to avoid hitting a deer.”

Jules had tried for years to block that night out. After Miles didn’t come to pick her up for their senior prom like planned, she called him furiously for hours until the calls went straight to voicemail. Jules assumed he’d turned his phone off. She spent the evening watching old movies with her grandma, fighting back tears. It wasn’t until the next morning that she’d been told what happened: Miles had been arrested for stealing a car from the parking lot of a convenience store and was being held in county jail.

At first, Jules didn’t believe it. He’d never do that. Not Miles. He knew what was at stake. He had a full ride scholarship, for God’s sake. She waited for him to call and sort everything out. It had to be a mix-up. But day after day, her phone went silent. Not so much as a text from him. Eventually, doubt crept in. It didn’t help rumors were swirling the next week at school.

A few days later, Jules cracked. Her anger at him standing her up subsided, turning into worry. When she asked Grandpa Lou to help her get in touch with him at the county jail, he said Miles had already been released. That’s when it became clear: he didn’t want to talk to her. If he did, he would have called when he got out to set things straight and apologize or at the very least show up to school to talk to her.

Her concern turned back into hurt and furry, wondering how he could so easily walk away when she needed him more than ever. Soon, the pain morphed into indignation.

If he didn’t need her, she didn’t need him, she’d told herself. A few weeks later, she left Riverbend, skipping their graduation ceremony, to move with her mom to Lincoln, Nebraska. Barb had a boyfriend there who was working as a farmhand on a large soybean farm and the job came with a rustic hunting cabin. To her eighteen-year-old brain, it was the perfect solution for Jules since she’d be attending school there in the fall, anyways.

After Grandma Rosa finished telling Jules the truth about that night, they were told visiting time was over, but they could come back tomorrow when she was being discharged at noon. Hugs were given all around and Jules told Barb to call if she needed anything at all.

Still processing what her grandma had told her, she followed Miles to the large and almost empty parking lot, stopping abruptly at the edge of the sidewalk.

“Um, I don’t have a car,” she said, looking around in a daze, her mind elsewhere.

How could he have not told her? Why did he push her away? Was he trying to protect her?

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he said, taking her hand again and leading her to his white pick-up truck that was still full of his gear from playing at the dinner earlier.

Jules let him take the lead, feeling a mixture of comfort at his touch but also revulsion at herself for believing the worst about him. Of course, he wasn’t the one driving. Of course, he wanted to protect her by keeping her as far away from his problems as possible. She was angry with herself for not fighting hard enough for him.

Lost in her thoughts, she kept quiet as the truck hugged the dark, curving back roads from the hospital to her grandma’s neighborhood. After a few minutes, Miles pulled over to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I don’t think you should stay by yourself tonight,” he said, holding his palms up to let him continue. “Hear me out. You’ve had a long, stressful day that ended with an emergency. I think you should stay at my place so you’re not alone." He stared at her with one hand on the wheel and the other reaching across the dash to squeeze her shoulder.

She cocked her head to the side, suspicious but also touched he cared that much. Could she trust herself to be with him right now? Wasn’t there too much to process?

“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. Tomorrow is a school improvement day, so I don’t have to be there until the afternoon. I can drop you back at the Golden Kernel to pick up your grandma’s car,” he explained.

Miles was right; Jules didn’t want to be alone tonight. So, against her better judgment, she agreed, and Miles threw the truck in reverse, turning around to drive towards his house before she could change her mind.

The familiar house was dark and motionless as they drove up, but it still gave Jules the same cozy feeling as they crossed the threshold of the front door. Sir-Toots-A-Lot was doing figure eights around her legs before she could even get her shoes off.

“I think someone missed you,” Miles said as he hung their jackets on the hand-made hall tree by the front door. Jules bent down to run her fingers through the cat’s thick fur, and he purred in return. “Come on, let's get you some pajamas."

Miles made his way towards the bedroom hallway as she followed behind. Her body was on the brink of giving out, but her mind was awake and firing questions all over the place. Should she talk to him about what her grandma told her? Did it matter now?

No, she didn’t need to talk to him about it.And yes, it did matter. It was all so clear to her now, watching him lay out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers on the bed for her. He’d never do anything he thought would harm her. He’d always taken care of her. Even back then, although misguided.

Standing in his room, she could see it all and ached to feel connected to him again. Jules took a confident step towards Miles, who had his back to her as he closed the drawer on his large wooden dresser. He turned to face her as she grazed his neck with her fingertips.

“Jules,” he breathed into the space between them.

“I need to be honest with you,” she said in return, meeting his gaze. She wouldn’t give in to her need to feel his body against hers before he knew the whole truth about the darkness she’d been carrying since that summer. Miles deserved to know, even though it terrified her. He may never speak to her again after this, and she wouldn’t blame him. But she knew his secret now, so it was only fair he knew hers, too.

Miles could sense the seriousness in her voice. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”

Jules shook her head yes and walked back down the dark hall, dread forming a heavy pit in her stomach.

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