Charlottesville, VA – Past

 

Adam quickly finished posting his letter home. He hadn’t written since the day he met Sissy, and now, almost a month later, his father’s last letter had sounded concerned. He was a little ashamed over how short this one was, but at least his family would know he was alive and well. He soothed his guilty conscience by promising himself he would write a long, newsy letter later in the week. For today though, he had plans, and those didn’t involve having any thoughts of his pa or two younger brothers.

Adam jogged the first half of the way to the cherry orchard. Sissy had agreed to meet him there for a picnic, even declaring that she would provide the food. They had met twice since the fair. Sissy had gone back to being more reserved, and Adam wondered at the change.

Rounding a corner in the road, he saw her leaning against the fence waiting for him. She had a basket in her hands and was chewing her bottom lip as she looked down the road in the opposite direction. Quickly crossing the road, he jumped the fence and slipped up behind her.

“Looking for someone?” he asked, and then grunted as she turned quickly, slamming him in the chest with the basket.

“Oh, Adam. I’m sorry. You scared me.”

For a moment she looked so frightened that he reached out a hand to comfort her, but then she began to laugh.

“And what, may I ask, is so funny?”

“Your shirt,” she gasped between breaths. “It’s, it’s . . .”

Adam looked down, and then wrinkled his nose at the smell emanating from a large wet spot on his shirt. “As much as I like pickles, I don’t usually bathe myself in them.” He joined Sissy in laughing at himself as he helped her over the fence. “There’s a creek just up ahead a little ways. I can clean up there.”

Once at the creek, Adam began splashing water on his shirt, and Sissy busied herself setting up the food. She’d brought a blanket with her and spread it over the ground, then joined Adam at the creek. She giggled as he struggled to get the water to the front of his shirt. “Better take it off,” she tsked. Adam looked up, a twinkle in his eye, and she began to stammer, “I, I mean. Well, the smell isn’t going to come out if you don’t wash it properly.”

Adam grinned and reached for his top collar button. He felt her eyes on him and his insides suddenly grew warm. He undid his left cufflink next, and then allowed Sissy to take his arm as she helped him with the next one. Before she finished, he reached out and put a hand over hers.   She didn’t pull away. Bringing her hand slowly to his lips, he gently kissed her fingers. Their eyes met, and Adam wondered if her heart was pounding as fiercely as his. He tipped his head toward her, but she leaned away, a trace of apprehension in her features. Taking a step back, he forced his breathing to calm. She watched him, a look of longing now replacing the fear that had been there moments before.

“Sissy, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I would never hurt you.”

She paused for a moment then nodded. “I know . . . Adam? Will you kiss me?”

Adam smiled and stepped closer to her once again. Taking her hand, he drew it to his chest. With his other hand, he slid a finger along cheek until it touched her chin; gently, he tipped her face toward him and softly, their lips met; long and full, it was an embrace that left them both breathless.

“That was nice,” Adam said, leaning in for another kiss, but a giggle from Sissy made him hesitate.

“You smell like pickles,” she said.

Adam threw back his head and laughed, long and loud. With the mood broken, he realized just how hungry he was, so they returned to the blanket. The meal was delicious, and before they finished packing up for the day, they had agreed to meet in the orchard again after Adam’s Tuesday class. Later, on the way back to his dorm, Adam chided himself for his practical joke. Pickle juice was definitely not conducive to romance.