The summer sun shone as the two drove through the city, grime and graffiti slowly giving way to pristine suburbia.
With Adam still the prudent driver she remembered, Julie kicked off her flip flops and leaned back against the creamy leather, relaxing as Vampire Weekend's M79 wafted in the background.
.
The type who was forever loathe to spend money on big ticket purchases, Julie couldn't help but feel a tinge of envy as she noticed how quiet the Audi was. How lacking it was in the weird clanks and whirs that she took for granted with her ancient Honda…not to mention the improvement in smell, with the Audi smelling like leather and cologne, rather unwashed gym clothes and forgotten takeout.
It's really not fair how good his life smells…
.
After a few moments, Adam decided to open the sunroof. As the breeze blew through her hair, it was hard not to imagine that time had stopped.
Sitting there in the passenger seat with her first love beside her, it was easy enough to imagine that was the case. That it was once again 1998, and that they were once again two teenagers in love. Easy enough to imagine that life was infinite, and that there was a whole world out there, just waiting for them to join.
.
Looking over at Adam, the fantasy seemed plausible.
Sitting down, and with his tortoise shell Wayfarers hiding the laugh lines around his eyes, the effects of time became less obvious. As long as she ignored the polished mahogany cane resting on the other side of him, and the hint of pudge that had taken permanent residence around his middle, he could still pass as the high school hockey star of her fonder memories. They could still going to Mickey's Diner, or a keg party at some house on the lake; they could still be sneaking back to his dorm room afterward, buzzed on cheap rum and one another.
His right hand obviously not holding the wheel, it took a bit of self-control not to reach over and take hold of his warm hand; to entwine her fingers with his as she searched the radio for a Blink-182 song to sing along with.
April, 1999
No one should take themselves so seriously
With so many years ahead to fall inline
Why would you wish that on me?
I never want to act my age
What's my age again?
What's my age again?
The Porsche's sunroof open and the cool spring air whipping a their faces, the two sang along to the Blink-182 song at the top of their lungs, delightfully unconcerned with their lack of actual musical talent. Thankfully, for both Adam's dignity and the ears of other innocent drivers, it was past midnight, and the suburban roads were deserted as the two headed back to Eden Hall from a party in Minnetonka.
Julie looked over at her drenched boyfriend, laughing as she pulled a leaf from his soppy bangs. "I still can't believe you jumped into the lake!"
"Come on, it was calling everyone's name. I can't help it if Charlie and I were the only ones who listened!"
"It wasn't calling anybody's name. It was still partially frozen! If it could have said anything, it would have said 'Stay away, dumbass! It's not even 50 degrees out!', but it couldn't say that, because it's lakey mouth was still frozen shut."
"Meh, you're just jealous that the lake doesn't talk to you." He smiled, reaching over to stick an icy hand up her shirt.
"Ahh!" She screamed, flinching as the cold coursed through her body.
"Damnit. I hate you so much right now!"
Exacting her revenge, she reached over to the middle of the dashboard, turning off his seat warmer and turning the air conditioner to full blast.
"Fuck!"
"Don't worry." She leaned over and whispered in his ear, her warm hand traveling up the thigh of his khaki shorts. "I'll warm you up when we get back to your room."
Between the street lights outside and the soft glow of the dashboard, there was just enough illumination for her to notice that flush of crimson that had spread over his cheeks.
That's one way to give him some color.
Looking over at her flushed, pink preppy, she wished that time could hurry up. That all of the stop signs and red lights would just disappear, and that she could be back in bed with him, sandwiched between the Egyptian cotton sheets and his delicious, hockey carved body.
"So uh, just a word of warning—" Adam spoke up, snapping Julie back into the present, "Will is…well, he's a little eccentric. He's going through this phase right now where he likes to pretend to be an octopus. If he starts wiggling around like a fucking weirdo, that's…that's normal. For him."
Abort sexy thoughts! I repeat, abort sexy thoughts! The 90's definitely are over.
"You raised an octopus? That's pretty great."
"Oh, he's more than just an octopus." Adam clarified, shaking his head. "Last month he was a dinosaur. And before that he was a boat.
"I still can't quite decide if I'm horrified or honored to have raised such a weirdo..."
As a warm smile spread across his face, Julie knew the answer.
"You know you're honored. He sounds even weirder than you, and that's an accomplishment!"
"Heh, yeah." He chuckled, "If I would have spent hockey practice pretending to be a fucking boat, I'm pretty sure my dad and Coach Reilly would have taken terms kicking my ass. They would have torn my sails apart, right along with my not-so-imaginary kidneys.
"I guess things are different now." He continued, chewing at his bottom lip as he put his thoughts together. "When Will pretends to be a boat, everyone's just like 'Oh, Will's being a boat today', as though that's some kind of perfectly normal thing.
"I'm kind of jealous, really…it…would have been nice to have that sort of acceptance. To have any sort of acceptance."
In her mind, Julie could still hear his fifteen year old voice on the phone. The bellowing in the background of Phil going on about some jacket that was left in the living room, or a mistake that Scott had made five years prior.
"Well don't worry. I think you're lovely exactly as you are. Repressed boat dreams and all."
"Nah," He chuckled, "I think I want to be a lottery machine. Like, the fancy plastic kind on the news, where the numbered balls bounce through the air until they roll down the little chute…those things are pretty cool."
"Okay, that's weird even for you. I hereby revoke my unconditional acceptance."
"You can't revoke something that's unconditional."
'Fine. Lotto boy."
…
Before long, they were winding their way through the very same Edina neighborhoods she'd come to know so well during high school. Looking out at all of the sprawling Tudors and colonial revivals, she couldn't help but notice that they were smaller than she remembered. That everything seemed smaller than she remembered.
The grand, intimidating mansions of her adolescent memories had all been torn down and replaced with worn, scaled down replicas. Replicas that had been built with cheap materials, all showing the scars of Minnesota's brutal winters.
I never realized Edina was so average.
October, 1999
"Remind me again why I would ever need to say 'The car is blue' in French?" Adam grumbled, chewing on the end of a highlighter as he stared down at his textbook.
Julie sat across the oak table in the boys' commons room, taking it all in.
.
Taking in the graffiti on the table, written in pen and Sharpie by other bored students over the decades. The bland, white walls, complete with chipping paint and laminated notes reminding students to pick up after themselves. The serious looking boy in front of her, wearing the same khakis and L.L. Bean Norwegian sweater she'd bought him three years prior; adjusting the rimless glasses that he wore during allergy season.
The same rimless glasses that made him look even more like a 40 year old investment analyst trapped in an 18 year old's body.
The same rimless glasses that reminded everybody just how nerdy he could be underneath the shiny Porsche and on-ice bravado.
.
"You might need to know it if you ever go to Paris." She suggested, hoping he would take the hint.
Hoping that once, just once, he'd show some glimmer of interest in the world outside of the ice rink.
.
"And why would I go there?"
…
It was two months into their senior year, and for Julie, things were starting to change.
.
While Adam had spent his summer training up in Canada, working ten hours a day to try to iron out the lingering weaknesses in his wristshot, Julie had been touring colleges back east, envisioning a very different type of future.
As she'd roamed the manicured grounds of the Ivies, she couldn't help but find new thoughts taking hold. Thoughts that had nothing to do with hockey scouts, or NHL salary caps, or who said what to whom at lunch. As she basked in the rolling hills and gothic architecture, she found herself at peace with the fact that her hockey career would end before Adam's; as much as she loved the sport, she was ready to see what else the world held.
Ever since, the walls of Eden Hall and the endless sea of clean-cut boys in Varsity jackets had seemed like they were closing in on her. Like they were trying to turn her into the next 1999 Dairy Princess.
With every passing day, she found herself more frustrated with the monotony; with the upper-middle class provincialism that defined Eden Hall's student body. She chafed against the endless Abercrombie sweaters and the dumb jokes from dumb guys like Crawford and Thad; the idea that one's ultimate goal in life should be a two-story foyer and a new Grand Cherokee in the driveway each year.
Adam too had fallen victim to this frustration.
As horrible as she felt to admit it, the same steadfast qualities she'd once loved now seemed like a noose, strangling the very vibrance out of life.
…
"I don't know. It's supposed to be one of the greatest cities in the world..."
"They eat snails and they wear stupid hats. I'm not seeing the appeal.
"Besides," He continued, still oblivious to her frustration. "If you go to St. Croix, they already speak English. You don't have to waste your time on stupid shit like this."
Julie just rolled her eyes.
"That is such a you thing to say!"
"What do you mean?"
She tried to catch herself.
She tried not to say what she was thinking; what had dominated her thoughts for the last four months.
But it was too late. The words were going to come out whether she wanted them to or not.
"What I mean is that there's a whole fucking universe out there, Adam." She began, the words only getting louder and angrier; four months of resentment spewing out across the room. "A whole fucking universe that doesn't involve St. Croix or hockey or Ralph Lauren or the stock market or ordering chicken strips at every meal! A universe where people wear T-shirts and travel and have sex that lasts for more than three minutes!"
Caught off guard, Adam looked up from his textbook, his eyes wide as he processed what she was saying. Once her words began to sink in, his expression crumbled; nothing having prepared him for this discussion.
Finally, he gathered his things and stood up.
"There's also a whole universe of girls who aren't gold digging sluts."
"Prick."
"Dumb bitch." He called out as he stormed back to his dorm room, leaving Julie alone with her thoughts.
Lost in thought, Julie barely noticed that they had turned off into his neighborhood until she heard a garage door opening, and realized that they were pulling onto a cobblestone drive. Looking ahead, she saw a sprawling three story colonial with black shutters and carefully tended window boxes, all overflowing with flowers.
Ah. I guess THAT'S what $26M in insider trading gets a person.
Clearly I made the wrong choices in life…
"So I take it this is the new house?"
Adam paused for a moment, as if thinking how to answer.
Finally, he just nodded.
"Yeah"
Well, that was insightful.
"Well, you have as good of taste as ever. It's very…you."
"Indeed it is." He smiled, "You know, I'm not just a fancy plastic lottery machine. I'm also a house."
"I knew it! You weren't fooling me with that whole 'I'm a person' thing."
"Man, I can't get anything past you. Damn goalie…"
"Well, seriously, it's beautiful. I can't think of anybody more deserving…"
Adam shrugged, staring ahead at the clapboard Georgian, as if thinking about the thousand life decisions that had led him to where he was.
"Heh, I'm not sure how many people would agree with that last part, but thank you."
….
Walking through the side door, the fantasy of living in a Brooks Brothers catalog continued as they entered the kitchen. With oak parquet and end grain butcher block, Julie could recognize the deceptive modesty right away; such understatement might have looked quaint, but it was well out of her granite and Sub Zero price range.
At the center island stood an extremely pregnant Laura, preparing a salad in a sundress. With her hair pulled back and the fresh-scrubbed glow of a woman who'd spent her life gardening and playing tennis, Julie couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards her replacement.
Seriously, hasn't anybody in this house ever heard of sweatpants?
"Hey sweetie," Laura greeted, setting down her cheese grater to give her husband a quick kiss. "I missed you.
"And I missed you, too, Julie." She added, her smile warm. "It's been much too long.
"I hope that your flight was alright?"
As the two exchanged pleasantries, a preschooler waddled over from behind the kitchen island, her blonde bob pinned back in a bow.
"Daddy!" She squealed, putting her arms out for a hug.
Slowly, Adam leaned his cane against the counter and crouched down to the girl's level. Her little arms wrapped around his neck, he pulled her in closer, leaning over to kiss the top of her forehead.
"And how is my sugarplum?"
"I'm not a plum!"
"Oh really now?" He giggled, still down on the floor with her; face to face with the four year old as she tugged at his shirt collar and climbed atop his knees.
.
Over in the background, Julie could hear the television blaring; sounds of a truck commercial interrupted by a burping contest that was somehow louder than the voice-over about factory rebates.
"Tucker. Will. Company.
"I'm sorry about that." Laura apologized, sighing. "I promise we've tried to teach them manners."
"Don't worry. I had three brothers, and my parents are still waiting for them to learn manners..."
"I hope they're having more luck than I'm having."
Julie shook her head.
"Two out of the three eventually figured out the whole 'soap' thing. That's...really kind of been the extent of their success.
"Heh, my standards are getting lower by the day with those two. If Tucker would figure out soap, I would be one very happy woman."
"Really." Adam agreed, reaching for his cane to help push himself back up off the floor. "The kid smells like ass. I just want to write an apology note to anyone who's stuck being around him."
Laura turned around to help her husband up just as both boys walked into the kitchen; the oldest eerily identical to the Adam she remembered from the Goodwill Games so many years earlier.
Someone should probably check in on this whole human cloning thing...
.
Lounging near the entryway, it was hard not to stare. Both boys had the same tousled hair as their father; the same sparkling blue eyes. In their chino shorts and pastel polos, they were perfect little carbon copies of the first boy she'd fallen for, right down to Will's boat shoes and Tucker's black sport watch.
.
"And what were you saying about me?" The older one chimed in, running his fingers through his sandy mane as he leaned against the counter.
"We were talking about how you smell like a dead hobo's ass. But not as good."
"Sweeeet!"
Adam shook his head and sighed.
"I'm so putting you in foster care."
November, 1999
"Hey…Adam…we umm, we need to talk." Julie said nervously, rubbing the back of her neck as she stared down at the old black and white linoleum.
.
She had been putting this conversation off for two weeks, not wanting to worry him. Hoping that the situation would take care of itself. Finally, though, Connie convinced her that she need to go talk to him.
The senior boys' dorms were right next door to the senior girls', but still, she'd nearly lost her nerve three times during the five minute walk to his room.
As she stood at his door, her gaze shifted back and forth between the checkered linoleum and his concerned face; her mind filled with regret that she didn't turn back around when she had the chance.
"Well then come in." He assured her, wrapping her in a hug.
.
It was late evening, and he'd already stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt for the night; his contacts once again traded in for glasses courtesy of fall allergies.
Yet again, he looked more like a future accountant than an NHL prospect, but this time, the steadfastness was reassuring.
As he held her close, the world felt safe again; his toned frame enough to protect her from all that the world could ever throw at them. As she buried her face in his shoulder, she could smell the last hints of cologne mixing with detergent.
He smelled clean.
Safe.
Like everything that she could want under such circumstances.
A part of her didn't want to speak. A part of her just wanted to curl up bed with him, removing that freshly laundered shirt while she was at it.
Of course, that was also kind of what had caused this whole mess.
.
"So what do we need to talk about?" He asked, brushing a strand of her from her face as they sat down atop his bed; the contours of his muscles all too visible beneath his thin undershirt.
Not. The. Time.
"I'm late."
"So do need to talk another time?" He asked, his face confused. "I mean, I don't want to keep you from whatever you're running late for."
"No. I mean, I'm. Late."
"Okay?" He got up to reach for his khakis and wallet. "I mean, I'll give you a ride wherever you need to go..."
"Not that kind. I mean...my period's late. I think I'm pregnant."
"Oh...
For a moment he didn't say anything, the news still sinking in. They just sat side by side on his bed, staring down at the floor.
"Well, that's fine. We'll just get married sooner rather than later."
"What?
Julie jumped up from the bed, suddenly dumbfounded by her reality. She looked him up and down, staring at those damned monogrammed boxers, and the Ralph Lauren floor lamp that he'd somehow decided was appropriate for a dorm room. She stared at the knight in the corner holding a hockey stick, and the Day-Glo painting of Ronald Reagan above his bed.
I can't believe I let someone who monograms his underwear get me pregnant.
"What do you mean 'that's fine'?" She shouted, too upset to care who could hear. "This is my life we're talking about! My future. What about college? What about all of the things I want to do?"
Adam just shrugged.
"I guess it would suck to go to prom pregnant." He began, at a loss for why this was such a big deal. "But I mean like, this isn't a Lifetime movie. I'm pretty sure we won't have to drop out and go work in the coal mines or anything. I figured we were going to get married and have kids soon, anyway, so we're just doing it like, a year sooner."
We?
We had this plan? Because I sure as hell wasn't in on this idea!
For a minute, Julie just stared at the wall, trying to reconcile his words with the boyfriend who'd spent the last four years cheering on her ambitions.
"College." She reminded him. "How am I supposed to go to college with a baby? How am I supposed to do anything with my life?"
Adam's face scrunched with confusion.
"Does it...matter? I mean, it's not like you're ever going to use a degree."
"Do you not understand how serious this is?"
Adam grew thoughtful for a moment, slowly realizing from her reaction that their plans for the future might not have been so similar, after all.
"Like, I get that it's not ideal." He replied, choosing his words a bit more carefully this time. "I know it's maybe not what you had in mind. I'm just saying that like, we obviously have resources. In the grand scheme of things, it's not really the end of the world."
Julie shook her head.
"It might not be the end of your world, but it would definitely be the end of mine."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought about the other option. The option that he didn't particularly believe in, but that he knew Eden Hall girls usually took when such things came up.
"So...you want an abortion?
.
Thinking about it, he chewed at the side of his lip.
It wasn't what he wanted, but it was a fact of life he was used to. His parents had written plenty of checks to Scott's girlfriends for exactly that, and he knew Bunny wouldn't object.
.
"That's not what I'm talking about! I don't want an abortion-"
Suddenly, Julie couldn't hold it in anymore. She collapsed onto his bed, sobbing. Her shoulders heaved up and down as Adam reached over, stroking her hair and rubbing her back as she cried.
"What would you like to do?"
"I don't know."
At a loss for what else to say, he simply let the quiet envelop them. Laying down next to her, he wrapped his arm around her as he thought about all that lie ahead. He was pretty sure that he didn't know the first thing about being a father, but he was also pretty sure that he'd figure it out.
That no matter what, he'd figure out how to be the person Julie needed.
.
Before long, her sobs grew quieter. As the minutes and then hours passed, they both began to drift off to sleep, his arms still around her.