Chapter 12 - The Cottage

Jill hated to admit it, but she suffered from coulda woulda shoulda . It was a condition that crept in on occasion and stole happiness from her, even over inconsequential things. If she ordered chicken, she'd wish she'd gotten steak. Choose candy apple red nail polish for a manicure, and she'd leave wishing she'd gone with taupe. But choosing to cycle through the French countryside with Dylan Duke was not a decision she was second guessing. Riding on leaf strewn roads on a bike with the soul of a motorcycle (pedaling was effortless!) as they talked and occasionally played Would You Rather was giving Jill a feeling of undiluted joy. You've felt this happy before, she reminded herself, whenever you slipped silly notes back and forth with him during chemistry…or, truthfully, anytime you were with him. Jill didn't argue the point. Time with Dylan had always had its own special spark. But Jill liked to think of herself as a level-headed person and as any level-headed person knows, high school is not the time to lock it down when it comes to relationships. You've barely met anyone yet, she'd tell herself after daydreaming about Dylan in class. There are tons of guys out there—college guys, European guys, Australian guys! And besides, high school romances never last. So Jill had gotten out there and dated every kind of guy imaginable. Some were fun. Some were even serious contenders for her heart, but with none had she felt a special spark. I was too young to realize how special that spark was, she thought.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Dylan as they rode through a thicket of trees.

"High school . . . and you," she said, turning her voice upward at the end to make it sound like she was asking a question. Telling the truth suddenly felt scary.

"You really want to know?"

"I really want to know."

"Not having cell reception."

"Oh please."

"I'm serious. We haven't had any for two hours. The last time I couldn't make a call was when I got that D in Mrs. Hollis's home economics class and my dad took it, or as he liked to say, confiscated it."

"How does anyone get a D from Mrs. Hollis? She's the nicest lady in the world and all we ever did in class was bake treats."

"She graded my sponge cake harshly."

"If I remember correctly Joey Wright tried to use it to break open his lock."

"Joey was just being Joey." Dylan straightened his back, momentarily letting go of the handle bars. "But it's good to take a break from my phone."

"More like that's what you're telling yourself."

"You know me too well." They emerged from the wood into fields of lavender. "But seriously, it is good to take a screen break. If I were looking at my phone, I'd be missing out on all of this, " he said, gesturing at the flowers dancing in the breeze.

"And crashing." "That too."

"It's so pretty here."

Dylan gently swerved left then right like he was riding between cones, giving Jill the distinct feeling he was showing off for her. "Not as pretty as you, Jill Caruthers."

"You do realize you're comparing me to a landscape. Sort of an apples to oranges situation."

"I'm not taking it back. You are prettier than fields of French flowers."

"That's quite the compliment." She put her hand up like she was envisioning the words written in the sky. "Dylan Duke the multi-millionaire—"

"Multi-millionaire for now, that may change in a few days."

"—thinks I'm pretty."

"I've always thought you were pretty."

Jill swallowed hard. I've always had a thing for you was what she wanted to say, but the honesty she'd been capable of while at Juliette had left her, and the thought of being that candid now made her feel shy. "That's what every girl likes to hear," she said, "but what I need to know is would you rather be stuck on a ski lift or in a broken elevator?"

For a moment there was just the sound of birds chirping and the distant rumble of a tractor.

Dylan stood up on his pedals as they coasted down a hill. He was still in a good mood, but she could feel his slight disappointment at her skirting being real with each other. "I gotta go with ski lift," he said, flashing her a grin.

Tell him how you feel, how you've always felt, she told herself as a cloud blocked the sun. "Me too, ski lift any day of the week," she said, smiling though she wanted to kick herself for not being brave.

"I know I've said it already, but you were amazing last night," said Dylan.

Jill laughed so hard the water she'd just sipped came out in a spray.

"What!" said Dylan.

"Nothing," she said, returning her water bottle to its holder.

"Jilly," he said playfully, the term of endearment making her melt a little, "now you gotta tell me."

"Fine, it's just that usually when a guy says that—"

"Says what?"

"That a girl was amazing last night, it's not because he was there to assist her in delivering a baby."

"Jill!"

"I'm just saying."

"Mind out of the gutter, lady! The next little town we ride through we're going to stop at the church and say a little prayer for your soul." He shook his head as she laughed. "Honestly!"

"I'm telling you the truth!"

He raised a hand. "I said you were amazing because you were amazing. There are lots of ways to be amazing, Jill Caruthers."

"You're right. I'm just used to…you know."

"What?"

Be honest with him, she told herself. "Guys having a one track mind. The doctors at the hospital, the guys I meet online or at parties. They all want one thing."

"Well, as a member of the true-love society," said Dylan a hand to his heart. "I'd like to say that there are guys out there who aren't just interested in one thing."

"Wait, does that exist, the true-love society?"

"Now it does, and look at that, I just got elected treasurer."

"Congratulations."

"I promise to increase the number of vending machines in the school."

"Now you're just quoting your campaign speech from junior year."

"Geez, good memory!"

"It was a bold promise. Sorta stuck in my head."

"That it was."

"Even bolder is," She paused, gathering the courage to say it, "believing in true love. Do you, Dylan?"

"Yes," he said, almost not giving her time to finish speaking. "Yes, I do." Jill's wide-eyed look proded him to explain himself. "I mean, it takes work just like anything else and patience, but the pay off, being with the person you love, is worth it."

She watched him for a moment while in the distance lightning pulsed. Jill pressed her lips together as she gave herself a pep talk. Don't slip back into the friend zone! Be honest with him! "You might be the most patient man on earth, Dylan Duke."

Dylan laughed. "My IT team would beg to differ."

They wound their way through hills carpeted with wildflowers as the clouds gathered overhead, giving the afternoon a sudden feel of twilight, and in that dusky moment, Jill found her strength. "How long have you wanted to kiss me?" she asked.

"How long have I been alive?" he asked.

"Be serious, Dylan, how long has it been?"

Dylan exhaled through closed lips, making it sound like he'd just gotten a flat tire. "I'm going to say sophomore year, Mr. Mahoney's class. You came in one morning wearing an extra layer of lip gloss, and the way the fluorescent light bounced off your lips, I swear I heard angels singing."

Jill laughed. "You're so dramatic."

"And yet when I tried out for Grease, Ms. Wanda said I lacked that special something."

"I hope you didn't take it personally."

"Not after I cried into my pillow."

"Oh, please."

"Okay, I didn't cry into my pillow, but it did sting a little. High school was our world back then and we wanted to belong."

"And now look at our world! This Florida girl can't believe she's here!" said Jill, spreading her arms wide until her bike wobbled. "Oh, and fun fact. I've wanted to kiss you since P.E. our ninth grade year."

Dylan slammed on his brakes. "P.E.!" he cried as she pedaled away.

"What can I say, you looked good in gym shorts," she cried, turning a little to send her voice more his way.

Dylan pumped his legs, pedaling fast to catch up to her while above the clouds began to darken. "That would have been good information to have!" he said, panting and smiling.

"If you'd known would you have kissed me?"

Dylan shook his head. "I would have thrown up, then written you a love song, maybe performed it at the talent show while crying. Come to think of it, maybe it's best I didn't know. But it looks like you've been patient too."

"I have."

"Should we hop off our bikes and seal the deal right here?

"Here? Right now?"

"Right now!"

"No, this isn't the right moment."

"We're in the beautiful French countryside, surrounded by no one, and there's zero trash on the road!"

"Still, I think we should wait."

Dylan let out a sigh. "Okay, but it feels like we'll be pushing ninety and you'll still be feeding me that line."

"Dylan," she chided.

"I'm being honest."

"Okay, that's what we should be doing right now instead of kissing, being honest with each other. We were out of touch for so long. Let's talk, I mean, really talk," said Jill, watching as the sky pulsed with lightning.

"About what?"

"You've traveled all over world. Tell me what it was like?"

"Every place I've visited, I've thought one thing."

"What?"

"You're going to think I'm lying. I can hear you now. Dylan Duke," he said, making his voice high and scratchy. "quit making stuff up!"

"Worst impersonation of my voice ever, but go on."

"I'd think, I wish Jill were here with me to see this."

Thunder rumbled, startling a flock of birds to flight as Jill looked into the distance.

"You are the dumbest man."

"Can we go back to you saying I'm patient?"

"It's one thing to not kiss me because you're a terrified teenager, but if that's how you felt as an adult, why didn't you message me?"

"Jill, you ran out of graduation and when I called you said, and I quote, I never want to see you again."

"I was young and stupid!"

"But I thought you meant it, and so I tried to forget you."

"By dating super models!"

"Woah, woah, what about you and Dr. Canyon Crest, the dentist with megawatt smile or Dwayne Rice, the number one real estate agent in Winter Nest?"

"Have you been stalking me?"

"No, paying attention," said Dylan as lightning cracked overhead. "And from the looks of it, I was the last guy you were thinking about."

"You were a multi-millionaire, Dylan!"

"So?"

"It was intimidating. It made me feel like you were beyond reach!" she said, emotion running so high neither noticed Rue Clodard and kept riding.

Lightning cracked loud enough Dylan looked up for a moment. "Why would what's in my bank account make me out of reach?"

"I don't know, it just did. I was worried if I messaged you you'd be thinking I was after your money. Honestly, it would have been easier if—"

"I'd been a couch potato like my father predicted?"

She hesitated at first, but then gulped back the urge to soften things. "Yes, that was the Dylan I knew, that guy made sense to me, but multi-millionaire Dylan—"

"Is the same guy, Jill. The same guy that's been nuts about you since high school."

A fat raindrop landed on Jill's cheek, but she had too much to say to think much about it. "I'm not interested in a one and done make out session, Dylan."

"Neither am I," said Dylan as rain plopped on his arm.

"No! I'm serious here, Dylan," said Jill, raising her voice to be heard over the rumble of more thunder, "if you think you can whisk me around the world, allow me to be part of amazing experiences, kiss me, and then say good bye, you picked the wrong girl."

"You're not listening to anything I'm saying," he said, the rain moving quickly from a sprinkle to downpour.

"What are you saying?"

"I love you, Jill."

Jill looked left then right. There was no place to go to run for shelter, and no way to hide from his words. Love? He loved her? That was such a gigantic statement and yet it had rolled off Dylan's tongue.

"You don't have to say it back," he said, and there wasn't a little guilt trip hidden in tone. He meant it. "I just wanted to let you know that I don't have any intention of doing what you just described, so throw that thought out the window."

"I don't know how this would work," cried Dylan, straining to be heard over the storm.

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Dylan I'm a nurse, you're a multi-millionaire. We live such different lives."

"We'd figure it out."

"I'm scared."

"Jill, it's me, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"No, I'm literally scared. I think we're lost and this rain isn't letting up."

"Let's not forget no cell service."

"Dylan!"

"I'm just pointing out you're justified."

"What should we do?"

"If we stop riding we'll get cold. I say we keep going until we find help."

With the storm not letting up and daylight waning, Dylan and Jill paused their conversation and focused on riding. At first, they were optimistic that just around the next hill they would spot a home or a store, but one hill led to another with no help in sight. Any thoughts of dinner by a fire at a French castle vanished as hour after hour passed. At one point their batteries drained and they were forced to climb hills without the assistance of the motor. Jill had just begun to imagine them falling over from exhaustion and sleeping by the side of the road when in the distance she spotted a plume of smoke coming from a chimney and a light in a window.

"Dylan!' she said, "Do you see that?"

"Thank heaven," he said as together they left the paved rode and took the winding dirt road that led to the house. Half way to their destination the sound of paws bounding through puddles reached them. Jill gave a little yelp as a dog so big she thought at first it was a pony came rushing toward them. She sped up to evade the dog, but it soon became clear that he only wanted to run along side them, as if to show them the way.

"Hey boy," said Dylan. "He seems nice."

"Terrifying but nice," said Jill, her voice a whimper.

With the dog as their guide they approached the house. The house was made of stone and on its porch stood an old man with long gray hair wearing a cable sweater, khaki pants, and smoking a pipe.

"Hello there!" said Dylan as the rain pelted them.

"We're lost Americans."

The man spoke, his words running together and occasionally accentuated with grunts.

"That's not French, is it?" asked Jill.

"I think it's a dialect. Even if it worked right now, my translation app would be useless."

"How are we going to communicate?" asked Jill right as the old man motioned for them to park their bikes in the barn and come inside the house.

"I guess we'll figure it out," said Dylan, trembling from being soaked.

After riding for hours in the rain, the little house felt more luxurious than a castle. The old man they learned with the help of hand gestures was named Gabriel and his dog was Oscar. Both were eager to make Dylan and Jill feel at home. After motioning to them to take quick showers (so they didn't run out of water) the man gave them each long white night shirts."

"Is it just me or does this guy shop at Rip Van Winkle?" asked Dylan, looking at the ancient but clean pajamas.

"Just be grateful," said Jill.

"I'm definitely that."

Showered, changed, and their clothes hanging by the fire, Gabriel fed them stew and crusty bread while Oscar rested his head on Dylan's lap. "This might be the best meal I've ever eaten," said Dylan.

"Same," said Jill. "And I don't want to know what kind of meat it is. Let me think it's chicken."

After "talking" at the scrubbed oak table, a conversation which mostly involved laughing, Dylan and Jill did the dishes while Gabriel went to a heavily carved armoire and pulled from it several woolen blankets. He made for them a pallet by the fire then kissed them both on the cheek and went to bed.

They looked at their "bed" and then each other. "I could sleep on his love seat," he said, which Jill knew he didn't mean.

"Why don't you make a bed out of the kitchen chairs, line them up all up."

"Or maybe just go out to the barn. Sleep on the dirt. Use my front wheel for a pillow."

"All good ideas,"she said, climbing beneath a blanket that surprised her with how soft it was. "but you could also sleep here next to me. I trust you."

Dylan scratched the back of his neck. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

Dylan slid beneath the blanket as well and propped on elbows the two old friends faced each other, the fire light dancing in their eyes as they laughed softly.

"Hey," said Jill, her blonde, wet hair falling around her shoulders.

Dylan gulped. "Hey."

"It seems like there's always been something."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice growing huskier.

"Something pulling us apart, sending us in different directions, but now here we are," she said.

Dylan brushed a strand of hair from in front of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. "Here we are."

"There's nowhere to go, no game to launch, no phone to check, no baby to deliver. Just you and me."

And then the wait was over.

Grabbing hold of his collar, Jill kissed him, the little groan he made as their lips touched letting her know he'd enjoyed the surprise.

"Jill," he said, quietly, reverently, almost turning her name into a prayer.

"Tell me this," she said, managing to speak as they kissed again.

"Anything," he said, his eyes half shut.

"Would you rather be in a castle right now or a cottage—"

"Cottage," he said, as he lifted her wet hair and kissed her neck.

"I'm not finished," she said with a laugh.

"Sorry," he said, continuing to kiss her.

"I was going to say a cottage with tomorrow's oatmeal simmering over a fire and—" Just then Oscar, the dog, wedged between them and plopped down, putting an end to any more kisses. "—a giant dog between us."

Dylan grumbled. "I could have lived without the dog, but I'd take the cottage every time."

"Me too," she said, reaching a hand over Oscar, who was already snoring, and lacing her fingers with Dylan.

"By the way, this moment, that kiss, it all counts as epic."

"I couldn't agree more," she said as the fire popped and crackled.

Dylan kissed Jill's hand and they fell asleep.