Jake: Jake Understood Part 17

Me, too. Because it will always remind me of you.

I yearned to touch her, so when a patch of turbulence came, that was my excuse to grab her hand again. At one point, the plane jolted hard, and she tightened her grip on me. I wanted to hold her, but instead in a silent compromise, took both of her hands inside mine and held them together. "It's almost over, Nina. You did good."

My stomach sank as I absorbed my own words, which I hoped didn't foreshadow the weeks to come.

It's almost over.

It wouldn't be a full excursion without a couple of surprises up my sleeve. Our action-packed morning started with a killer view of the city.

Nina was less than enthused by our stop at the famous Skydeck at Willis Tower. I made her stand with me on the gla.s.s ledge that extends out over a thousand feet in the air. We had our picture taken, and I'll always cherish that photo despite the look of terror on her face. That very look in contrast to my wide smile was what made it a cla.s.sic snapshot that would forever be a keepsake.

The second stop was a visit to the house where I grew up on the South Side. No one was home, so we couldn't go inside. Instead, we sat outside for almost an hour as I told Nina stories about my childhood. I'd gotten the urge to kiss her a dozen times on this trip but never as much as when we were sitting in the backyard of my old house. She'd grabbed my hand and was listening so intently to me reminisce while the breeze blew her hair around. It took every ounce of restraint in me not to reach over, fist that beautiful hair in my hands and pull her toward me.

After we left, the next stop was supposed to be lunch at Bernie's, a retro diner and one of my favorite childhood haunts. On the way there, though, a feeling came over me that I couldn't shake. It wasn't part of the original plan, but I couldn't leave Chicago without making a certain stop.

"How hungry are you?"

"I could take it or leave it," she said. "Why?"

"Do you mind if we take a detour?"

"Not at all."

"Maybe we can pick up something on the way then hit Bernie's for dinner instead of lunch."

I hailed an approaching cab, and we hopped inside.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

My chest hurt just thinking about it. "Naperville."

The cab idled as Nina and I walked up the path of dead, snow-covered gra.s.s that led to my sister's plot. Her name, Amanda Thompson, was carved into the granite gravestone. Guilt set in because I hadn't been back here since moving to Boston for college. Life happened, then Ivy happened, and the things that were once so important to me here took an unintentional backseat. Dried-up flowers that were half-covered in snow blew in the wind. It made me incredibly sad, but having Nina with me made it a bit easier to face.

I kneeled down at the foot of the headstone. "When you first told me about feeling guilty for not visiting Jimmy during his last days, it reminded me of how I felt after I moved away and couldn't come here anymore. I used to visit her here when I was a teenager a lot. It was out of the way from where we lived. I bought a c.r.a.p car just to be able to come out here whenever I wanted to keep her company. I only knew her in death, so those visits were all we had, you know? They were what bonded us."

"That was how you met your other sister, right? Here at the gravesite?"

I nodded, still looking down at the stone. On the anniversary of her brother's death when Nina and I had stayed up all night talking, I'd told her all about Amanda. My sister died in a car accident when she was a teenager and was one of two daughters my mother had given up for adoption before I was born and before she'd met my father. I only found out about Amanda when I was sixteen, many years after she died, so I never had a chance to meet her. I met my other sister, Allison, when we ironically showed up at the cemetery at the exact same time one day.

"Even though we'd never met, somehow, I felt closer to Amanda than anyone else in my family. I'd talk to her during my cemetery visits, tell her about my teenage problems, ask her for advice. She almost felt like a spiritual guide to me. And I truly felt she was the one that brought Allison and me together that day."

"That's really powerful. You know she'd be proud of you, Jake."

"It's hard coming here after all the time away. I know it's not the same kind of loss you had, since you actually grew up day to day with your brother."

"But it's just as significant. You don't have the memories I have, which might make it even harder because there are no happy moments to cling to."

"I'd bring flowers every time. I didn't have a pot to p.i.s.s in back then, but I always scrounged up enough money to buy some. I wanted her to be surrounded by nice things, wanted her to feel loved if she were to look down and see me here. I should've stopped somewhere and gotten some today on the way, actually."

"Don't feel bad. It's really cold. They wouldn't last." Nina kneeled down and put her hand on my shoulder. "In a way, even though she's not around, I bet she's taught you a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at how you are. You're an old soul, so wise. You are who you are because of the losses you've sustained. You've channeled those into a positive att.i.tude about life, while others like me, have let stress manifest into other things. Your sister...her death...have taught you to live in the moment and to not take things for granted."

"Life is too short not to be happy. I've learned that only recently." I turned to her and words that hadn't meant to be spoken aloud escaped me, "I want to be happy again."

After a long silence, she said, "You make me happy."

I rubbed the tip of my finger along her cheek. It felt as if my sister's spirit was giving me strength. Amanda would want me to be happy, to live life to the fullest because she couldn't. That realization gave me the courage to say something I hoped I wouldn't regret. "You make me happy, too, Nina. If nothing else, please always know that."

She gave me only a slight smile, seeming to understand the cryptic undertone in the last part of my admission. "Thank you for bringing me here, for showing me this and other important parts of your life. One step at a time."

"One step at a time," I repeated. That would have to be my mantra over Christmas.

Nina took off her necklace.

"What are you doing?"

"Here's the flower that you didn't bring." The charm on the necklace was a rose inside of a heart. "This one will last forever." She stuck it in the dirt, partially burying it into the ground. "Let it be a gift from me to Amanda, to thank her for helping shape you into the person you are. Without that, I wouldn't be here right now."

I wasn't even going to argue with her because the gesture was so incredibly sweet. "Thank you, Nina."

We stayed for about ten more minutes. In that time, I showed her a photo of Amanda that was tucked away in my wallet. She couldn't believe how much my sister and I resembled each other.

I kissed my hand before placing it on Amanda's stone and whispered, "I'll come back again soon. I promise. I love you, sis."

When we got back into the cab, Nina turned to me. "I'd like to visit her again with you someday."

I smiled. "You mean you'll willingly get on another plane to come here with me?"

She grinned. "You'd probably have to go down on me again."

The remaining hours of the trip were spent talking and eating while nestled inside a booth at Bernie's Diner until the sun set. We were surrounded by nostalgia, from my father's favorite song playing on the mini jukebox (Crimson and Clover, which also ironically happened to be a favorite of her brother's) to the milkshakes and burgers I'd grown up on.

By the time we left for the airport, my stomach was full, but it was no comparison to the fullness in my chest. Knowing that Nina was heading home tomorrow to upstate New York for Christmas break and that I was planning to tell her everything after she returned made me wish there were such a thing as a slow motion b.u.t.ton in life. Or maybe a pause b.u.t.ton.

I'd never been so happy and scared at the same time. Those feelings reached their peak during the plane ride home. Nina and I had an entire middle row of the Boeing 777 to ourselves. It was dark with minimal lighting and eerily quiet. Unlike our earlier flight which was full to capacity, this plane was nearly empty.

Nina's nerves were kicking in but not at the same level as before. Selfishly, I'd looked forward to takeoff because I'd been dying to touch her all afternoon and had been waiting for an excuse to hold her hand again. I had no plans to let go tonight.

As the plane taxied down the runway, our hands were locked together tightly. She was breathing heavily and trembling a little but not hyperventilating this time, probably because the experience wasn't completely unknown to her anymore. When the plane ascended, she closed her eyes and whispered something to herself. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling. Unable to control the need to comfort her, I leaned into her during the takeoff, resting my chin on her shoulder because I knew this was the scariest part of the flight for her.

She calmed down a little once the plane was level again, but her hand was still trembling. Once we were cruising for a while, the flight attendant came by with a drink cart. I placed the order for both of us before Nina had a chance to speak. "Two red wines, please." I whispered in her ear, "It will help you relax."

She quietly nodded as the attendant handed a gla.s.s of Merlot to each of us. When I took mine, I said, "I'll hold it, but you're drinking mine, too."

Nina took a long sip. "I don't want to get drunk, Jake. I need to be alert in case something happens."

"No. You're still shaking. What you really need is something to help you chill. I'll be your eyes and ears if anything happens. Keep holding my hand and drink up."

Several minutes after Nina polished off both gla.s.ses (which didn't take much prodding), the pilot announced that we may be experiencing some heavy turbulence up ahead. Sure enough, soon after, the aircraft started jerking around almost violently. I hadn't let go of her hand since takeoff. Holding it wasn't going to be enough to get her through this. A distraction was needed.

"We're gonna do something to get your mind off this."

She breathed through her reply, "Okay."

We started playing this game I'd completely made up where we took turns shouting out a word and then had to say the first thing that came to mind.

After a while, the turbulence let up, and our game ended, giving way to her simply asking me a ton of questions. One thing I'd learned about Nina was that alcohol made her chatty and inquisitive.

She turned her body toward me. "If you could travel to any place in the world, where would you go?"

I rubbed my chin pensively. "Probably Italy. My mother has some second cousins who live in Venice. I bet it's beautiful."

"It must be so romantic there. The Gondola rides? The food! Italy is definitely on my list. I would love to go someday."

Maybe someday we will.

"Maybe someday you will," I said.

"If this were a week ago, I would have said that a trip to Europe wouldn't ever be possible because I refuse to fly. But I guess I'm proving right now that I am capable of getting on a plane, capable of more than I ever gave myself credit for. If I'm ever brave enough to do this again, so many dreams could become reality for me. Of course, without you to hold my hand, I'm not sure I'd have the courage."

I swallowed the dread creeping up at the implication of my not being there someday to hold her hand. "You'll do just fine with or without me."

Our eyes locked for several seconds.

"I hope it's with you," she said.

I nodded but couldn't bring myself to respond, feeling suffocated by a flurry of emotions. When I didn't say anything, she searched my expression for some semblance of truth. There was no doubt that my behavior was confusing the s.h.i.+t out of her.

She changed the subject. "I never asked you. I know you're spiritual, but are you Catholic? What religion are you?"

"You're just one question after another when you're tipsy, Nina."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I'll answer your questions all day long if it keeps you distracted." I turned my body toward her to match the positioning of her own body still turned toward mine. "My mother is Catholic, but we never practiced. I don't believe in any one religion. But I do believe in a higher power that some call G.o.d. There might be more than one. There might be a whole team in charge, but I don't believe that all of this is just a coincidence without a purpose."

"You believe that everything happens for a reason. You've said that before. I believe that, too. I had a hard time with my faith, though, after Jimmy died."

"I know what you mean. It's a mystery how a good G.o.d can also let certain things happen."

"I'm starting to get some of my faith back, though." Her eyes bore into mine. "Since I met you."

Those words made me feel euphoric and like getting punched in the gut at the same time.

"I'm glad you feel that way," I simply said, wis.h.i.+ng I could tell her that not only my faith, but my entire outlook on life had changed since she entered my world.

Just when she was getting her faith in life back, though, I was going to drop a bombsh.e.l.l on her that our relations.h.i.+p might never recover from, that would likely break her heart and shatter her faith all over again.

Nina laughed to herself. "Maybe Jimmy met Amanda in heaven and said to her, 'Your brother should meet my crazy sister.' Maybe they conspired to introduce us."

"That's a nice thought." I smiled. "I really like that thought, except Amanda would have said to him, 'Dude, trust me, you haven't met crazy until you've met my brother.'"

Her mouth spread into a wide smile, and I squeezed her hand affectionately.

Our attention then turned to an elderly couple who slowly made their way to the airplane lavatory and entered it together.

I wrinkled my forehead. "You think they're messing around in there?"

She giggled. "That's kind of gross."

"Because I think she's backin' that up. Unless she's helping him wipe his a.s.s, why else would they have gone in there together?"

Nina covered her mouth in laughter with her one free hand. "I guess you could be right."

"I'll tell you something," I said. "I want to be f.u.c.king around in an airplane bathroom when I'm eighty-five. That's for d.a.m.n sure. Why not?"

Her curious stare was penetrating. "Have you ever joined the mile-high club?"

I cringed. Ivy and I had done that years ago on the return trip from Vegas after our elopement. I wanted to be honest about whatever I could with her. "Yes. Once."

She looked embarra.s.sed for having asked and a little disappointed in my answer. "I see."

"It was a long time ago, Nina. I was a teenager."

"I'm not judging. You already know I've never joined. I guess there's a lot I haven't experienced."

"There's plenty of time to rectify that."

"You mean mile-high? But there's only a half-hour left to the flight. That's not enough time."

Her face turned red, and for a split second, a big "what if" crossed my mind. What if I lifted her up and led her down the aisle and into the bathroom right then and there. Would she have let me have her? The answer was honestly a mystery to me. A part of me thought she might slap me, but another part wondered if she'd go along with it, if she'd let me f.u.c.k her. My d.i.c.k hardened at the thought. I'd never know.

Tapping my arm, she said, "Jake, you zoned out. I was totally kidding. I didn't really mean it when I said a half-hour wasn't enough time to...you know."

"Of course, you didn't."

"Half-hour is actually plenty of time."

An image of Nina's beautiful bare a.s.s bent over the counter in those tight quarters while I rammed into her from behind came to mind. I had to literally shake my head to rid the thought because my c.o.c.k was straining against my jeans. It was painfully arousing to imagine. I must have s.p.a.ced out again.