At first we were the only ones on the floor, everyone watching us as we glided
around the floor. I think they all knew how we were feeling about each other, and it
reminded them of when they were young, too. I could see them smiling wistfully at us.
The lights were dim, and when the singer began a slow melody, I held her close to me
with my eyes closed, wondering if anything in my life had ever been this perfect and
knowing at the same time that it hadn’t.
I was in love, and the feeling was even more wonderful than I ever imagined it could
be.
After New Year’s we spent the next week and a half together, doing the things that
young couples did back then, though from time to time she seemed tired and listless. We
spent time down by the NeuseRiver, tossing stones in the water, watching the ripples
while we talked, or we went to the beach near FortMacon. Even though it was winter, the
ocean the color of iron, it was something that both of us enjoyed doing. After an hour or
so Jamie would ask me to take her home, and we’d hold hands in the car. Sometimes, it
seemed, she would almost nod off before we even got home, while other times she would
keep up a stream of chatter all the way back so that I could barely get a word in edgewise.
Of course, spending time with Jamie also meant doing the things she enjoyed as well.
Though I wouldn’t go to her Bible study class—I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front
of her—we did visit the orphanage twice more, and each time we went there, I felt more at
home. Once, though, we’d had to leave early, because she was running a slight fever. Even
to my untrained eyes, it was clear that her face was flushed.
We kissed again, too, though not every time we were together, and I didn’t even think
of trying to make it to second base. There wasn’t any need to. There was something nice
when I kissed her, something gentle and right, and that was enough for me. The more I did
it, the more I realized that Jamie had been misunderstood her entire life, not only by me,
but by everyone.
Jamie wasn’t simply the minister’s daughter, someone who read the Bible and did her
best to help others. Jamie was also a seventeen-year-old girl with the same hopes and
doubts that I had. At least, that’s what I assumed, until she finally told me.
I’ll never forget that day because of how quiet she had been, and I had the funny
feeling all day long that something important was on her mind.
I was walking her home from Cecil’s Diner on the Saturday before school started up
again, a day blustery with a fierce, biting wind. A nor’easter had been blowing in since the
previous morning, and while we walked, we’d had to stand close to each other to stay
warm. Jamie had her arm looped through mine, and we were walking slowly, even more
slowly than usual, and I could tell she wasn’t feeling well again. She hadn’t really wanted
to go with me because of the weather, but I’d asked her because of my friends. It was
time, I remember thinking, that they finally knew about us. The only problem, as fate
would have it, was that no one else was at Cecil’s Diner. As with many coastal
communities, things were quiet on the waterfront in the middle of winter.
She was quiet as we walked, and I knew that she was thinking of a way to tell me