I pull a small cooler from the back of my truck, keeping half an eye on Jane as she spreads out a navy-blue blanket on the grass. She’d suggested a drive over to Acadia again. When I picked her up, she surprised me by coming out of her house with a picnic basket. She announced as she jumped in the truck that we’d have to stop for some drinks, and so we graced a rundown-looking mini mart before we hit the ferry and purchased a cheap Styrofoam cooler, a small bag of ice, and a six-pack of Coke.
Here I am, a man in hiding, having spent the past several years selling my soul to the devil, getting ready to sit down with the sweetest, sexiest woman I’ve ever known to have a motherfucking picnic.
I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.
It’s felt like that for the past two weeks since Jane and I have been regularly seeing each other. And by seeing each other, I mean there’s been a whole lot of orgasms dished out, intermixed with what you could call “dates,” I guess. That included going on a double date to dinner with Miranda and some dude she’s banging, but it’s totally not serious. It also included a trip to the county fair where Jane screamed and dug her nails in my leg during every ride, except for the Ferris wheel, where we made out like teenagers at the top. We then gorged ourselves on corn dogs, cotton candy, and elephant ears until my stomach hurt so bad I didn’t think I’d be able to fuck her that night.
I did, however, persevere.
Jane also convinced me to go to dinner at her parents’ house one night. This was something I internally balked at, as I genuinely liked Jane’s mom, Meredith, and didn’t want to string her along by letting her think this was something lasting with her daughter. I had a hard time sitting at a woman’s table, eating her food and knowing I was probably going to hurt her daughter in the long run.
Didn’t matter that her daughter knew that going into this and had agreed to it; it still made me feel bad. I only agreed because Jane sensed my reluctance before I could even accept the invitation, and she quickly backpedaled. I saw the clear disappointment and sadness in her eyes that I couldn’t give her this little bit of normalcy in this crazy relationship we had, and even as she was saying, “Never mind I asked. I’ll come up with a good excuse for my parents,” I was saying, “Of course, I’d be glad to go.”
Turns out, it was nice and her parents are great, but it only served to remind me how different my world is from Jane’s. She adores her parents and has a natural and easy relationship with them. I can’t imagine how that might be affected if they knew what was really going on between their daughter and me.
I carry the cooler over to the blanket. After setting it down on a corner so it’s not lifted by the breeze, I take a seat on one side as Jane removes items from her basket.
“I made some fried chicken and potato salad,” she says as she pulls out some paper plates. “And I was going to make some cookies but decided to buy them instead at the bakery. No sense in ruining this outing for us.”
Chuckling, I take a plate from Jane and put a piece of chicken onto it. It smells phenomenal. There’s something about the fact that Jane made it that makes me believe it will be the best chicken I’ve ever had. Today will no doubt go down as one of the best days ever, which I seem to think a lot when I’m around this woman.
As Jane dishes me some potato salad, I take a bite of the chicken and groan. Her eyes snap to me.
“That’s fucking amazing,” I mumble around my food before chewing.
She ducks her head almost shyly, which is not like Jane, but I’ve come to find out that she actually doesn’t take a compliment very well. She’s almost embarrassed when I do. I find that charming and sad at the same time. I suspect that’s because she’s not had a lot of genuine accolades from men before, which is totally odd given how amazing she is. Also odd is the fact that I hand out compliments to her. Never been that kind of dude, but she brings it out of me and I can’t fucking help myself.
“Miranda’s thinking about dumping Jim,” Jane says off-handedly before licking a bit of potato salad off her thumb.
“The guy who went to dinner with us a few nights ago?” I ask, then take another bite of chicken.
Jane nods as she selects a drumstick from the container of fried, spicy goodness.
“Thought his name was Tom,” I say after I swallow and put my chicken down on the plate. I reach over into the cooler to pull out two Cokes, popping the top on one before handing it to Jane.
“Was it?” she asks as she accepts the Coke and takes sip.
“Yeah,” I tell her, and then try a bite of potato salad. “And damn… that’s amazing too.”