I was fourteen, almost fifteen, when James and I had our
first date. After that we never
dated anyone else.
I met James at the lake that summer when I went with my
girlfriends to stay with Kate’s family in their rented cottage for a couple of
weeks. James’ family owned a place
a few doors down from Kate’s and all the kids would hang out together. We’d swim all day and in a big group
we’d have campfires at night or go to the drive-in movie at Haywood Springs,
the little town nearby. Each
carload of teenagers had a mom or dad driver. They didn’t give us an inch of leeway to get into trouble in
those days, and they didn’t allow any pairing off. Kate’s mom was especially strict, and she made sure we girls
knew she had her eye on us. Being
a no-nonsense, outspoken woman, she’d say, “No one’s getting pregnant on my watch!”
I remember that Georgie was always trying to find a way to
get off in the woods with Terry Metcalf, but I was too scared of Kate’s mom to
try to sneak off with James.
Besides, it was all so new to me, this boy/girl thing, and I was content
to be with James in the group and get to know him that way.
James was two years older than I was and he had just gotten
his driver’s license. We probably
could have gone for a ride together in his dad’s Buick, but I think maybe James
was uneasy about the whole thing, too, because he never even suggested it. We were both happy the way things were,
taking it slow. We had two great
weeks together with the group at the lake and then didn’t see each other until
right before school started up again.
James’ family came back from the lake in late August and he
came over to my house one afternoon.
We sat on the porch swing and talked for two hours while I babysat my
little brothers and sisters. When
my parents came home, they met James and I could see they were sizing him
up. They seemed to approve of what
they saw. And why wouldn’t they?
James was polite and well spoken and it didn’t hurt that he
was good-looking. He was tall and
muscular, but in a wiry way, like the cross county runner he was. He seemed more mature and
self-possessed than his years. But
the way his sandy hair sometimes flopped down onto his forehead made him a
teenage boy again. He’d push it
back into place with a quick flick of his fingers and he’d be back to mature
put-together James. He was still
doing the same thing forty years later, and it always made my heart melt.
We looked like a couple who belonged together right from the
start, as if we’d both just come from Germany with our blond hair and blue
eyes, straight noses and strong chins.
We could have been mistaken for brother and sister, like those old
married couples that grow to look like each other after decades of marriage. With James and me as teenagers it was
like we’d already lived those years together and were already melding into one.
Louie insisted James and I had been together in a previous
lifetime and that’s why we were so perfectly matched, why we clicked so quickly
without any of the drama most teenage couples go through. Maybe she’s right. I do know there was an instant
connection between us and once we met each other there was never anyone else
for either of us.
That August afternoon on the porch was the first of
many. Every afternoon James would
come over and we’d sit in the swing together. Finally, after a few weeks of that James got up the nerve to
ask me out on a proper date. Since
he’d become such a fixture at our house, my parents said it was okay, but they
didn’t want him driving us anywhere.
So James came on foot to pick me up on that Saturday, and as
we walked downtown to the movie theater, he took my hand. We ate popcorn and drank cokes and he
put his arm around me during the movie.
We walked back home holding hands and when we got back to my house, we
sat on the swing in the dim glow of the porch light. He kissed me full on the lips for the first time. We sat close and talked, swinging back
and forth together until someone inside flicked the porch light off and
on. One more kiss at the front
door sealed the perfect first date for James and me. It wasn’t a fancy date, but it was just right for us.
Sometimes in these months since James passed away, I go out
on the porch and sit in the swing trying to feel close to him. Louie tells me he’s swinging with me,
but I don’t feel it. I think he’s
on his way to the next place in time where we will discover each other all over
again. I hope he waits for me
there.
