by Douglas Young
Though slightly nervous, Radford McGinniss caught himself smiling en route to a fifteenth annual high school reunion thrown at a classmate’s home Saturday evening. Despite his four years at Theophilus Holmes High being his most miserable, littered with the usual adolescent angst and aggravated by a severe strain of shyness, Radford still managed to make some friends and many friendly acquaintances there. By his thirties, he concluded that the fault of his terrible teens lay not with constipated teachers or bullying educrats, but his own failure to summon the courage to confront pronounced personal problems, especially his shyness.
Going away to college had been liberating, and then earning a law degree and becoming a successful small-town attorney helped conquer or at least manage many of his deepest insecurities. Though still somewhat nervous, especially with women, he now felt far more confident facing his classmates. Time had also pushed his few happy high school hijinks to the forefront of his memories while the plethora of humiliating episodes and regrets had begun to fade.
Within five minutes of walking into Belle Boyd’s back yard party centered around a large pool, the hour’s drive to his hometown was well worth it since several pretty ladies greeted him with a hug, something he had never received from a classmate. He was also fascinated to learn the biographies of so many folks not seen in a decade and a half. Most had done well, and they were impressed and plenty surprised that the quiet boy in the back of the classroom had become an attorney with a thriving law practice.
Radford was so engrossed conversing with a slew of the fifty or so guests that he was taken aback when his watch revealed it was already 9 p.m. Looking for any buddies he may have missed, a loud feminine voice bellowed, “Radford McGinniss!” Turning around, he beheld the exuberantly fetching face and striking figure of Camellia Fitzsimmons, his boyhood’s biggest secret crush. Tall, busty, flirty, and more than a tad smart-mouthed, he had long envied how commandingly confident she appeared in any situation. In high school, he was slightly scared of every girl, but Camellia’s feisty spirit and love of embarrassing folks made her the least approachable of all.
Despite looking attractive as ever in her tight jeans and form-fitting, bright yellow shirt, the tanned, dark-haired Camellia had neither been on the homecoming court, a cheerleader, nor even a majorette. She never hung out with the school’s pretty girls since they held her in thinly-concealed contempt for openly displaying what they saw as distinctly unladylike conduct — talking back to teachers, speaking crudely, smoking cigarettes and marijuana, and having sex with many guys, especially the much-coveted stars of the football team. Miss Fitzsimmons returned the alpha females’ disdain in the most effective ways possible, alternately ignoring or laughing at them. Most all her friends were guys anyway.
Awestruck that his ultimate fantasy girl shouted his name and now beckoned him to her, a wide-eyed, slightly slack-jawed Mr. McGinniss slowly but excitedly moved toward her standing by the pool. He duly glanced at his waist to make sure his shirttail was tucked in and quickly ran his hand through his hair.
Surprising himself, he marveled aloud, “Wow. You’re even more gorgeous now than you were in high school.”
“Well, you just earned yourself a kiss, Mr. Radford,” she replied. “And look who’s still got hisself all that great big, bushy, beautiful blonde hair,” she exclaimed before embracing him, pecking his cheek, and running her hands over his scalp.
“Miss Camellia, if you’d a-done this in school, I’d a-been too thrilled to sleep tonight – and I still might not,” he blurted before he could stop himself.
“Well, you shoulda’ told me, babe,” she exclaimed with her hands on her hips. “And if I’d a-known you was gon’ be some hifalutin’ lawyer, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time with all those jocks. Look at ’em now.” She chuckled waving her hand toward the crowd. “Fat, already balding, selling used cars, and never even left town.” Thankful for the loud music and chatter, Radford hoped no one else heard her.
“Well, you’re mighty kind to me, Miss Camellia,” he replied, “but, as Senator Sam Ervin said, ‘I’m just a plain ol’ country lawyer,’ and one who only ended up an hour away, and in a much smaller town at that.”
“But I heard you went way out of town to college and law school, and the point is that you got outta’ here and really made something of yourself,” she declared, poking her index finger into his chest.
Still stunned, the now thoroughly buzzed teetotaler tried to fathom what was happening. Ever awkward receiving compliments, he looked down and stammered, “That’s sure super sweet of you. Keep talking like that and you’re liable to find this lawyer all swimmy-headed and totally tongue-tied. Seriously, many thanks, Camellia.”
Flashing a toothy grin that became a subtle smile, she leaned closer, looked deep into his eyes, and remarked, “And as shy as you were in school, I’m sure it hasn’t been easy. But you did it, Radford. Kudos.”
“Color me right flattered and deeply touched,” he replied, getting lost in her hazel green eyes.
“And, honey, as close as trouble shadows me, I figure it couldn’t hurt to have a good lawyer buddy.” She giggled.
“At your service.” He bowed and presented his card.
“Well, this one’ll definitely go on the refrigerator.” She laughed.
“So how about you, Camellia? Please enlighten me with all the exciting adventures in Camellialand.”
“Whew. There’ve been more than a few.” She widened her eyes with an exaggerated sigh before taking his elbow to lead them downhill toward the forest.
“But this scene’s too claustrophobic,” she remarked with a raised eyebrow. “So let’s skedaddle to where it’s a whole lot roomier. I grew up in this neighborhood and we used to play in these woods all the time. With a full moon and clear sky, we’ll have no trouble seeing the trails.”
An awed Radford reminded himself he was not dreaming. Initially worried what their classmates would think, he soon realized he was getting a charge from it. Indeed, Radford became completely captivated as he and Camellia explored a host of trails amidst gobs of trees lit by a full June moon and starry sky. The thick forest glowed in the summer twilight, enhanced by the dance of flickering fireflies, the competing scents of various blooms, and a cacophony of crickets and singing songbirds. To become ensconced in such a tranquil realm with such an intriguing beauty felt as if he had been transported to Dreamville.
Miss Fitzsimmons was enormously relieved to find a classmate genuinely interested in her, and one intelligent and witty to boot. Because of her reputation at school, she hesitated even coming to the party but figured she might as well since she was staying just a couple of blocks away with her mother that weekend, and she longed to reconnect with folks not seen in years. Alas, all the aloof, stone-faced “Hello”s, heads quickly turning away, and pronounced indifference of so many female classmates hurt far worse than she had dreaded.
But the refusal of old male friends to engage in meaningful conversation – especially a pair of former beaus – proved particularly upsetting. It pained her to see them so obviously uncomfortable around her standing next to their wives. When one ex casually told his spouse, “She was a friend in high school” and the other would not even introduce her to his, Camellia had to summon all her anger to avoid breaking into tears. She saw Radford McGinniss as rescuing her from an otherwise disastrous evening.
“All those professional phonies back there were really starting to stick in my craw,” she admitted. “The same stuck-up gals who never had a nice word for me still want nothing to do with me, and all the guys who I knew quite well in school are now hitched to a bunch of cloned Stepford wives with nothing to say to me either. Shoot, I taught those boys more in one day than they’ll ever learn from their proud, big-haired, airhead wives. It’s one thing to have to put up with jerks and bores in school, but I’ll be danged if I’m gon’ share space with ’em now.”
“Their loss, Camellia. As Oscar Wilde observed, ‘Some cause happiness wherever they
go; others whenever they go.’ You personify the former, and they epitomize the latter.”
“Aw. Thanks, Raddy,” she said softly and leaned into him as the music and chatter in the yard grew more distant.
“So what’s Camellia’s post-high school story?” a curious Radford asked as they ducked under some pink dogwood branches stretched over the trail.
“Well.” She took a deep breath. “After graduation, with no idea what to do other than making a fine time and staying on Momma’s allowance, I went to the local university where I majored in boys. Now I was an A+ student in that course, but I flunked out of the classes you actually had to attend and write papers for instead of just flirty notes or ‘Dear John’ letters. I shoulda’ asked you to tutor me.”
“Maybe you should’ve majored in male psychology.”
“Ain’t much to that.” She retorted. “Besides, I had no use for most of those excuses for professors I suffered through – a bunch of low-T, beta soy boys and angry women constantly jonesing to be ‘outraged.’ As soon as a lot of lectures began, I’d think, ‘Okay, here comes the bitchkrieg.’ I reckon there’s a whole mess of mighty proud virgins in that racket. But some of the students were even worse. So much of the campus was just a reality-distortion zone for bitter neurotics.”
“The trick is to jump through the required hoops and get out as soon as you can with your common sense and values intact,” he remarked.
“Shug, I assure you those clowns never changed me, and I sure had fun too.”
“I never doubted you, babe.” Radford grinned, surprised how comfortable he felt by her side. She patted his back and smiled at him.
“So after getting the college passport stamped,” Camellia continued as they walked around a large white pine tree, “I asked myself what job would get me outta’ town the fastest, see the world, and meet lots of well-heeled guys. So I became a stewardess for Delta.”
“Waouh! Tres bien, mademoiselle.” Radford enthused.
“Vraiment, monsieur. Merci. I flew all over the states and worked my way up to the Asian and European routes. It was a real rush getting to tour every exotic city I’d ever pined for – oh, Paris je t’aime! — and a whole lot more. Plus, I got courted by some pretty cool pilots which was a blast. But eventually I got sick of being a waitress in the sky, especially as passengers got more demanding and I dared to refuse to take any crap from them.”
“You? Camellia Fitzsimmons? I’m flabbergasted.”
“You remember me well,” she noted and lit a Nat Sherman Fantasia cigarette. “So I left the air to work in public relations. They like to put my picture in ads, and I’m good buttering up businessmen doing contract work with Delta.”
“Imagine that,” he said with a wry smile as she grinned and punched his shoulder.
“I’m based in Atlanta which is fine since I got tired of all the traveling. Buckhead’s nice. I have a good time.”
“Any mighty lucky men blessed to have been your beau?”
“Aw, ain’t you a sweetie,” she remarked and gently elbowed him as Radford enjoyed how, though enveloped by tall trees, their faces still clearly stood out in the moonlight. The party’s music became ever feinter, and their classmates’ voices could no longer be heard.
“Well,” she continued, “a bunch of fellows may have been blessed to have me, but I don’t know how ‘blessed’ I was with any of them. Alas, my romantic history has been something of a ‘Long and Winding Road.’” She took a drag off her cigarette.
“A sister Beatles fan.” He beamed at her as she smiled at him. “How I wish I’d known,” he exclaimed. “Maybe I would’ve gotten the nerve to try to talk with you at school.”
“And now you’re making up for it.” She leaned into him as he looked up at the moon and stars, still mildly incredulous to be traversing an enchanted forest with the most alluring lady he had ever known.
“Camellia, I think an airline pilot counts as quite a catch,” he offered.
“Well, they definitely knew how to wine and dine me,” she conceded, “and we did make some terrific times. But they were all married and either wouldn’t leave the wife or I didn’t cotton to become Miss Stepmom.”
“Have there been no decent guys who weren’t pilots … or married?” He barely suppressed a laugh and she elbowed him a little harder with a grin as they came upon a creek and began following it downstream.
“Not really. I mean, most were full of flash and fun, but nothing enduring, and I now realize that was my own fault. I’ll put it this way. My rap sheet of bad boy beaus got so long that I even switched teams a few years back.” She exhaled smoke and looked at him with a sly smile. Seeing his furrowed brow, she bent forward with a giggle.
“Your innocence makes you all the cuter, Raddy. Though you’re still a tad naïve for a lawyer, no matter how small the town.” She chuckled with a raised eyebrow. “Ahem. I figured since the straight road wasn’t leading me anywhere, why not veer off onto the dyke path?”
“You went down a path to a dike?” He appeared confused as she stopped and looked at him. At last unable to hide his grin, she tickled his belly.
“Bravo.” She nodded. “I bet you’ve got a real fine poker face in court too.” He winked at her.
“So are you … still on ‘the dyke path’?” he asked with a look of concern.
“‘Fear not,’ thy fine heterosexual man,” she trumpeted before he took her hand to help her step over a large tree that had fallen across the creek. After they climbed over it, he kept hold of her hand. When he looked at her face, she continued talking as if nothing had happened. Oh, if my ninth-grade self could see me now, what hope that would have given me, he reflected. What a whole new outlook on life that could have spawned.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she qualified herself. “I had some pleasant times with chicks and, unlike most guys, none ever cheated on me—”
“That you know of. I’ve handled some divorce cases and, trust me, all kinds of fascinating information can – and usually does – come out,” he interjected.
“Point well taken, dear, and I’ll withdraw the remark about your naivete.” She kicked a pine cone into the creek. “But there was just so much more drama with chicks. Ugh. The endless analyzing of every little thing. Too many emotional ups and downs. Imagine all the normal mood swings with a typical chick but doubled.”
“No thanks,” he said shaking his head and waving a hand before holding her arm as they stepped onto some wet rocks gleaming in the moonlight at the water’s edge.
“I mean, no offense, babe,” she asserted. “But men are so simple. As Mae West said, ‘Men are like linoleum floors. Lay ’em right and you can walk all over them for years.’ Mae’s my spirit guide.”
Chuckling, he asked, “But was the relative lack of emotional turmoil the only thing you missed about guys?”
“Ahhh. Ever the smooth and subtle one, Mr. Attorney.” She smiled at him. “The sex—”
“Now I wasn’t necessarily referring to that,” he interrupted.
“Oh, yes, you were.” She smiled. “That smooth lawyer schtick can work in court, but you can’t fool me, babe,” she announced before inhaling her cigarette. “Hooking up with chicks was still a good time, but it just never had the oompf of getting it on with guys. It was pleasing enough, sure, but it always felt incomplete. I mean, the first time I hooked up with a guy, I was like, this is it! But after each roll with a gal, it was always, this is it? Something was always missing. Acceptable, but like a roller coaster ride with no hills and thrills, a pizza with no pepperoni, or a barbeque sandwich with no meat.”
“Pun intended?” He looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Hey, Mr. Innocent got that,” she replied grinning.
Scratching the top of his head, he gave his best Stan Laurel smile. “So,” he began, “after you got back on the straight and narrow heterosexual path, did you finally find a good man? Ever get close to marrying anyone?”
After a pause while he admired the moonlit waters of the winding creek cradled by overhanging branches, he turned to her. “Only one,” she finally answered with a faraway voice and the slightest sigh before looking at the stars, taking a drag on her cigarette, and tossing it in the water.
Realizing he could barely hear the party’s music and seeing her stare at the ground with a serious face amidst another long pause, he squeezed her hand. “Camellia, I’m sorry if I touched a nerve.”
“Don’t be,” she remarked and patted his hand. “There was one fellow – just one, mind you – who I actually thought I might spend my life with. He was one of only two guys I ever lived with and the only one I even gave up my own place for. We were both twenty-eight and just completely clicked, guessing each other’s thoughts, finishing the other’s sentences, always wanting to do the same things – well, almost always. He could be so funny too, was wicked smart, and really successful – the computer programmer for a good-sized business. Never even looked at another gal, and truly loved me.”
“He sounds dreamy,” Radford observed as she lit another cigarette.
“He was,” she remarked wistfully while exhaling smoke. “But since nobody’s perfect, I suppose he had to have at least one flaw too, right? Well, as great as his virtues were, I guess his downside had to be big as well, and it was. He abused drugs.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry,” Radford remarked as she gave him a fleeting forced smile.
“Yeah, me too,” she lamented before taking a drag. “He thought he could handle them, and he convinced me. I mean, he was fully functional doing all that complex computer crap for a large firm and still able to smoke as much weed and snort as much blow as he pleased. I still thought he did too much and told him so. But then I was partying with him too, just not nearly as hard. What I didn’t know is that he was also doing heroin.”
“Wow,” Radford murmured.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “But dog if he wasn’t still able to keep juggling it all, and right to the very end. My year living with him was the happiest I’d ever been.” She took another hit off her cigarette. “And then I woke up one morning, reached over, and felt this cold blob.”
Radford stopped to face her while she stared at the water. “He was dead,” she said evenly.
“Oh, Camellia. I’m ever so sorry. I had no idea. If you’d rather not–”
“Thanks, but no, I think it might help. I haven’t talked about him with anyone in quite a while. Anyway, I called the ambulance but I knew he was gone, which the paramedics confirmed. I found his secret kit with a syringe and spoon and the whole works hidden in a shoebox in his closet. I had no idea he was on smack. So he ultimately fooled me too.”
She steered them down another path and soon they entered a moon-lit meadow where the stars seemed to shine more brightly to illuminate the pine, oak, and dogwood trees surrounding them.
“And before the shock could even wear off, that’s when the nightmare really began,” she continued in a louder, angrier voice. “There was a police investigation and I got questioned – grilled, more like it – I don’t know how many times. It made the papers and I had to get lawyered up. If I’d a-known you were a lawyer, you sure woulda’ heard from me. Anyway, there was weed, coke, and smack in the house, but because Seth’s was the only name on the lease, I passed all the drug tests – thank God — and had no track marks, plus the district attorney felt sorry for me losing my boyfriend, he didn’t prosecute me for possession.”
“Thank Heaven for that,” he observed.
“Indeed. It definitely got me to stop using drugs. That’s for dang sure, all except for my trusty coffin nails.” She inhaled again.
“Camellia, did you get some support from anyone in all this mess?”
“Mom helped, some. She did, though not without ragging on me again about still being ‘a bum magnet’ getting involved with ‘a druggie.’” Sighing heavily, “And I guess that’s fair. But what do you do when everything else about someone just seems so right and you love him – maybe even more because you know he’s messed up and you want to help him?”
“I sure hope his family was grateful to you for sticking with him to the end,” Radford remarked.
“Ha! They hated me. Well, his siblings were okay. They knew what an addict their brother was and that I was actually a stabilizing force, which is kinda’ funny. But his parents were in total denial about him – and to be fair, I guess I was, too, to some extent. Still, they actually blamed me for his death. They had the gall to claim I got him to use all those drugs and then did nothing until it was too late the night he died. They even threatened to sue me.”
“Oh, Camellia,” he said putting his arm around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they stopped in the middle of the field.
“For a long time, I blamed myself too, for not waking up in time.”
“Camellia, that’s utterly unreasonable. Please believe me,” he implored. “He was the heroin-user, not you. You didn’t even know about it. And, as savvy as I think you are, he sure must have gone to a whole heap of trouble to hide it from you too. And you were asleep that night. Plus, he was a big boy. Twenty-eight, no less. It had long been his responsibility to man up and face his problem. Not to be mean, but he was hardly considerate hiding such an addiction from you.”
“Yeah, my Prince Charming wasn’t so just right after all. Still, it hurt so bad, Radford – the worst pain of my life — and, when I think about it, it still does.”
“Of course,” he stated and gave her a full hug which she eagerly returned and would not relinquish. He wished he knew the words to offer the most solace, but was at a loss. Nothing was said for a couple of minutes as they continued holding each other. Illuminated by a cloudless moon, he cherished the azaleas, gardenias, and honeysuckle vines all around them in full bloom. How he relished their competing aromas and the high-pitched chorus of chirping birds and crickets. Is this the most surreal moment of my life? he mused.
Though feeling slightly guilty, he was overwhelmed by a powerful sense of warmth and recalled his last hot bath years before when recovering from minor surgery. But now he felt so much affection and what he wanted to believe was a genuine connection. He had never gotten so close to someone in so short a time.
When she quietly began to weep, he gently stroked her head and back, still struggling to find the right words. She shivered and drew him tighter.
As awful as it was recalling her life’s worst chapter, Camellia felt better having shared her anguish. She also figured a lot of the present pain was fueled by how deeply disappointed and hurt she was by several classmates at the party, especially ex-boyfriends.
But her spirits had soared with Radford as she was thrilled to sense a close bond with someone, particularly a man since she had not dated anyone in many months, a record for her. That everything was happening so fast with a person she barely noticed in school was all the stranger yet still both exciting and refreshingly comforting. Unlike other dating relationships that had progressed suddenly, it was a significant relief knowing that, should this become a romance, she was with someone she harbored no misgivings about. Ever since her nightmare ending with Seth, this requirement was non-negotiable.
“Camellia,” Radford began, “as terrible as the tragic ending of that relationship was, it’s over and will only grow ever dimmer as it fades ever further in your rearview mirror. But that doesn’t take away any of the good times and even joy you got to share with someone really special for a whole year. I know it’s real easy for me to say this, and maybe it’ll take years for you to accept, but how many folks ever find anyone with whom they’re so simpatico? At least you’ll always have that.”
“Thanks, Raddy.” She kissed his cheek and he handed her his handkerchief.
“I promise it’s not used,” he assured her. “I brought a fresh one for the party,” prompting her to laugh and pat his chest.
“You’re even funny when you don’t mean to be.” She smiled at him. “Or maybe you did. I gotta’ keep reminding myself you’re a shrewd lawyer now. Either way, I appreciate it … a lot.” After wiping her face and blowing her nose, she sighed and hugged him again.
“Yeah, it was the shock and awe of Seth’s death that hurled me right into the Land of Lesbos,” she remarked.
Feeling his muscles contract as he stifled a laugh, she tickled his sides and pulled her head back to smile at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The deadpan way you say some things can come off as pretty funny, whether intentional or not. Please forgive me, Camellia.”
“No need,” she said putting her finger to his lips. “Shoot, without some humor, actually a whole lot of humor, I doubt I’d-a gotten this far.”
“What an uplifting attitude. I expect you’re wise well beyond your years, young Miss Fitzsimmons.”
“Well, sometimes I feel like I’ve already done more living in 33 years than a lot of folks over a whole lifetime.”
“Bully for Miss Camellia, as Teddy Roosevelt would say,” he remarked.
“I bet you win the trivia contests at bars too,” she remarked.
“Actually, I can’t remember when I last visited a bar—”
“Of course not,” she interrupted with a chuckle and took his hand to lead them back toward the party. They were soon walking along the creek again and he wondered if he had blown it by not trying to kiss her in the clearing when everything seemed ideal but for her getting emotional. Though still not very experienced romantically, he was somewhat confident she would reciprocate his advances, but part of him felt like the awkward nerd daring to make a move on the hottest girl in school. Walking up the creek, he worried her silence signaled disappointment.
Why won’t he at least kiss me? she asked herself. With the party’s music getting louder, she grew anxious and almost resigned he would not. As smart as he is and a lawyer, can he really be so thick? Or maybe he’s not really into me and just feels sorry for me. Have we merely entered Friendville? Making out in the middle of that meadow would have been so romantic, though he may have felt weird making a move when I’d just been crying. But I’ve already hugged and kissed him, and we’re holding hands! How many more hints does he need?
When they got to a section of the creek where the embankment was several feet high, he gently pulled her away from it and switched places so he would be walking near the edge. She stopped, looked at him, and smiled.
“What?” he asked, blinking. She gave no reply but held his eyes, turned her head a little sideways, and widened her smile.
With the moon highlighting her face and a mild breeze moving some stray strands of her hair, he returned her smile and stepped forward to kiss and embrace her. As she enveloped him in her arms, she felt his tongue slowly slide into her mouth and his hands begin massaging her back. She cupped his head in her hands and was struck by how gentle and patient he was, determined to discover her entire mouth but not in the least hurried. After several minutes he began kissing her cheeks, chin, neck, and forehead. She loved how slowly but surely he kissed her whole face, all the while his soft hands were rubbing her back and then exploring her thick, curly hair. It was worth the wait, she concluded.
Radford was elated with the most satisfying kiss of his life. Not only was he making out with the prettiest lady he had ever known, but one who eagerly welcomed each new kiss with more passion than he had ever received. He was startled and excited when she briefly clasped her teeth around his tongue while tickling his behind, and he became thrilled when she put her hands under his shirt to run her fingers over his bare back before squeezing it. He reciprocated and got a charge hearing her moan. When he felt her hips, she smiled and did the same to his.
They finally caught their breath together, prompting Camellia to rest her head on his chest giggling and tickling him. He soon put his forehead against hers to nuzzle her nose, eliciting a grin. With his arms resting on her shoulders, they held each other’s eyes and smiled. Each noticed more birds singing, bullfrogs croaking, and the hushed sound of running water. Neither wanted the moment to pass and both saw no need for words. Radford put his hands around her back to draw her closer and she buried her head in his chest. Nothing was said for a time as each luxuriated in the other’s warmth and affection. At last, Mr. McGinniss could contain himself no longer.
“Camellia, I know I’m far from the most experienced guy around, but I’d be an ingrate if I didn’t thank you for the most wonderful make-out session of my life.”
Sporting a big grin, she leaned her head back and placed her hands on his cheeks. Camellia blinked and displayed what Radford thought was the most blissful smile he had ever seen.
“Well, without going into detail, let’s just say I’m likely far more experienced than you, and I can confidently say this has been the most satisfying kiss of my life too. Thanks, Raddy.”
Just as he was about to express his awe, she fingered his belly button which prompted him to laugh and reflexively jump back.
“Aha! And I finally found where you’re ticklish too,” she bragged and stepped forward to tickle him some more.
“Hey! Hey! Let’s not fall into the creek,” he exclaimed while enveloping her to move them several feet from the water.
“Wouldn’t that give ’em something to gossip about if we returned to the party drenched?” She bent forward cackling.
“Hmm, I don’t cotton to getting soaked in this night air and driving home all wet,” he declared. “But I wouldn’t mind the gossip. In fact, truth be told, this nerd would be thrilled to be linked with the most beautiful gal in the whole class.
“Aw. You’re mighty sweet, Mr. Raddy,” she replied and kissed him again a long time until the strongest wind of the evening came over the creek and she nestled her head against his chest.
“Alas, it’s not only getting late but slightly chilly,” he noted as they began the trek back to Belle Boyd’s back yard, albeit much more slowly with their arms around each other’s waist and her head against his right shoulder.
“Please lead me on the correct path back since I haven’t been thinking straight for some time now,” he remarked, prompting her to chuckle.
“I don’t rightly know if I want to,” she replied. “I haven’t been thinking much at all lately. Do I really want to re-enter the rest of the world again? I’m awful stoked just sharing these lovely woods with you.” She looked at him and he stopped to kiss, hold her, and play with her hair.
“I worry that when we leave these woods,” he confided, “I’m going to find out this was all just a dream, like when I used to fantasize about you in high school.”
“Well, let me prove it’s not, Raddy.” She provided another prolonged kiss.
When they resumed walking, nothing was said. He felt a mysterious mix of being thrilled and yet radiantly relaxed, so warm and calm but with an undercurrent of excitement, all magnified by a profound sense that all was well. He determined to do whatever he could to make this feeling last as long as possible.
She was amazed and euphoric that what had begun as one of the worst nights of her life had suddenly evolved into one of the most charming. Having lost hope of ever making a strong connection with another person only made the evening feel still more incredible. Enhancing the exhilaration of this new romance was its being shared with someone stable, reliable, and truly appreciative and respectful of her. This is the first man I can take home to Mom without the slightest worry, she assured herself.
As the music became much louder and they heard people jumping in the pool, Camellia and Radford focused on their moonlit shadows on the path ahead adjacent to the creek. When they emerged from the woods into Belle’s back yard, there were a lot fewer classmates present, and several ladies were in the pool cheering as guys vied for who could make the most impressive jump off the diving board.
With the new couple’s arms draped around each other walking uphill to the pool, several people turned to them. Radford initially looked at the grass now lit by an outdoor light before lifting his head and smiling. Camellia appeared quite contented and walked a little slower. A male classmate to Radford’s left grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.
“There y’all are,” Belle declared in her bathing suit putting a towel about her shoulders. “I was wondering what happened to y’all. But I reckon everything’s all right after all.” She chuckled slightly.
“Beaucoups of thanks for such a lovely party, Belle,” Radford said. “In fact, I shall be forever grateful to you.” Camellia grinned at him as Belle giggled and gave him a hug and a kiss.
“Ditto, dear,” Camellia said as she kissed and hugged their hostess. “I just thank you so much for never ostracizing me, Belle. You’ve always been kind, and I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know.”
“Oh, sweetie. You just made my evening,” Belle noted and hugged her again. “Oh, and I’m sorry I’m wet!”
“It’s all swell, girl,” Camellia replied.
The pair said goodbye to several folks as they made their way to the street.
“Since you’re staying with your momma so close by, I ’spect you just walked here, Miss Fitzsimmons. But I’d be right happy to give you a ride home in the cherry chariot,” he stated, pointing to his deep red car before them.
“Well, I’d be right proud if you did, Mr. McGinniss,” she proclaimed with an exaggerated southern drawl as he opened the door for her.
Little was said as they made the short trip to her mother’s house and pulled into the driveway. He turned off the ignition and looked at her, not knowing what to say.
“This is so like high school,” she chuckled. “I’m half expecting my mom to march outside hectoring me for staying out too late.”
“This is nothing like my high school experience,” he reflected.
“Aw, darling, come here,” she cooed and leaned over to kiss and hold him. They held each other a while before she nuzzled his nose and stared into his eyes.
“I’d invite you in, but with Mom home, it’d be like high school again.” She laughed. “Plus, I have to get up before 6 to drive to Atlanta for an early morning flight to Chicago where I’m spending the day with a couple of girlfriends—”
Here he widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Platonic girlfriends,” she clarified. “No, I left Lesboland long ago. It was an amusing trip but I have no plans to return, especially after tonight.” She gave him an exaggerated coquettish look. “I’ve got a Monday morning meeting at the Chicago Delta office before heading back to Atlanta. But let’s exchange contact information and in a couple of days we can chat.”
“You got it,” Radford replied. As they texted their phone numbers, he continued. “If you like, I’d sure be tickled to take you to dinner next weekend. I’m only a little over an hour from Atlanta.”
“Why, I’d just be tickled pink,” she answered.
“Powerful purty in pink,” he remarked with a smile to which she leaned over for another leisurely kiss. When their lips parted, they still held each other.
“I don’t want this moment to end,” he finally said.
“I know! Me neither,” she echoed. “But in less than a week we can pick right up where we left off.” She looked him close in the eyes as she tickled his belly button again and laughed as he squirmed. She gave him a quick peck on the lips before leaving the car.
“I can walk you to the front door,” he offered.
“That’s all right,” she said. “I suspect somebody might see us and then immediately start with endless questions when I’d much rather just go straight to bed … and dream.” She smiled and blew a kiss closing the car door.
Rolling down his window as she walked by, he declared, “You won’t be the only one dreaming tonight ’cause I’m gon’ have to drive home on autopilot.” She grinned.
“And to think I never even tried out for the football team,” he noted in a raised voice.
“Yeah, well, there’s a whole new pecking order.” She pointed at him with a wink.