Page 18 of Promised Summer
“I made my grandma’s Concord grape pie. I remember it used to be your favorite. Grandma always had to make two pies when you were over since you’d try to hog it all for yourself,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah,” Jones said softly. There was a mix of emotions in his eyes as he stared hard at the pie. Finally, he said, “I didn’t know you knew how to make it.”
“I asked her for the recipe a few years back. It might not be as good as hers, but I think I make a pretty good replica,” I replied with an awkward chuckle.
His hard gaze moved from the pie and landed on me. His brow was furrowed and pain was clearly written in his eyes.
“But why? You don’t even like pie.”
The question came out raw, his voice hoarse with emotion and his eyes searching mine. It stopped me in my tracks, leaving me unable to voice a reply.
We stayed like that for a second, just staring at each other, silent with only the sound of Karla’s laughs echoing from the open front door.
Jones snorted, then answered himself. “Well, I guess your tastes could have changed. It’s been a decade, after all,” he said sarcastically.
“I’m sorr?—”
“Don’t,” he cut me off and sighed. He faced the open door, where we could see Karla and Lily still chasing each other outside. This time, Karla was the chaser.
“We should head back out there,” he said and placed the lid back on the pie.
I nodded and followed him outside. It was a stupid idea to bring him a pie. Like he’d said, a decade had passed, which was more than enough time for tastes to change. Why didn’t I even consider that maybe his had as well? Maybe he now hated Concord grape pie, since it might remind him of me.
Could someone go from loving something to hating it? Orsomeone?
I was still contemplating the thought when I took a seat in the rocking chair beside Jones. The chairs were so close that our arms brushed with each rocking motion.
Karla was still playing with Lily out on the frontlawn, but she must have gotten tired from all the running since she was sitting on the grass now. She’d found a ball somewhere and threw it while Lily fetched it for her.
We watched them play for a few minutes. It was then that I noticed we had a perfect view of the slowly setting sun from our seats. It was a familiar view I’d witnessed over countless summers on the hill behind Jones’ cabin, with him by my side.
Even after a decade, some things never changed.
I peeked a glance at Jones. He was smiling as he watched Karla and Lily play, then his gaze shifted to the sunset, and a gentle expression settled on his face.
“I asked for the recipe because I missed you,” I managed to find the courage to say.
Jones’ head spun toward me, eyes comically wide before narrowing with suspicion.
“You could have answered my calls or replied to the dozens of messages I sent you. Hell, I even emailed you,” he replied, sounding more sad than angry. “I was right here, waiting for you like I did every summer. You’d go back to the city, and I’d count down the days until the following summer when you’d return. Just like we’d promised. I was always here, and you just threw me away like you didn’t need me anymore.”
His voice cracked, and my heart ached at the pain I’d caused him.
“I know and I’m sorry?—”
“Stop apologizing to me!” he yelled loud enough forboth Karla and Lily to turn our way. Jones took a calming breath, forced a smile on his face, and waved to them. I did the same, and they went back to their playing.
As soon as they stopped looking our way, Jones dropped his smile.
“Just tell me why you never reached back out to me. Was it because I kissed you?” he asked, and the kiss in question replayed in my mind.
I could still remember how soft his lips had been when he kissed me on our hill, under the setting sun that painted the entire world in a cozy, hazy yellow. I’d gasped, surprised at the action, and clumsy, it being my first kiss and all.
Jones licked his lips as if remembering the kiss, too, which had me focusing on them. They were probably just as soft as they were in my dreams. Though his cheeks had been smooth and free of a beard back then. I wondered how those curly strands would scratch me now if we kissed.
I forced my eyes away yet again and looked at my lap. The man must have placed a spell on me to keep focusing on that specific part of his anatomy.
“It was a part of it,” I admitted. “The kiss confused me. I’d never even thought of you that way, and then you kissed me and suddenly I couldn’tstopthinking about you that way.”
