Chapter 16
Her cold breath swirled in the chilling afternoon air as the sun shone brightly, failing to radiate enough warmth to pry her sweater from her shoulders. Isabelle rubbed her hands together as she sat on her new porch swing, patiently waiting. Birds flew across the brilliantly clear sky heading south, their calls occasionally interrupting the continuous sounds of crunching leaves, whispering winds, and the creak of the porch swing as it gently swayed back and forth.
She enjoyed the quiet solitude that surrounded her, a rare moment in her new life. Living with a newly married couple and new little sister never provided her a dull or peaceful moment. Her mother and Coach Yoast had finally left for their long awaited honeymoon in Hawaii, after the Titans had victoriously claimed the national title. The week between the game and their vacation departure had been full of celebrations and parties, and frankly, she was exhausted.
Instantly becoming big sister was also an adjustment, but Isabelle hardly minded the little girl following her around, asking questions, and dragging her out to play. However, today the always active, always bouncy Sheryl was away at a friend's house and her new home seemed even bigger, lonelier, and more unfamiliar. Being the only one left at home, her mother had left her with the task of unpacking their belongings and storing them accordingly. It was not exactly the way she had pictured spending her Saturday.
The faint rumble of a car pulling into the driveway startled Isabelle out of her thoughts and moved a delighted grin across her face. The familiar car slowly rolled over the gravel-paved path, coming to an abrupt halt before crashing into the basketball pole. Gerry smiled and waved to her as he unbuckled his seatbelt and unfolded his long limbs from his car before hopping up onto the porch.
"Well, hey there, champ," she grinned. Her eyes willingly settled on his long, muscular frame and thought how above all the esteemed athletes at school, that red and white letterman jacket seemed to look its best on Gerry's shoulders.
"Champ? What are you callin' me that for?" he laughed, circling his arms around her waist and drawing her closer to him. She looked awfully cold in that thin sweater of hers.
"Well," she countered, "how does one greet the captain of America's best high school football team?"
He leaned down and murmured, "Hmm, well, a kiss would be nice." Isabelle gladly obliged him, and then moments later pulled away, their breaths coming out in big, cloud-like puffs.
"Thanks for coming over and helping me unpack," she said, leading him inside. Gerry stepped into his coach's house and was amazed at the mess of unpacked things in the living room -- he never imaged that Isabelle and her mom could acquire so much in such a short span of time.
She caught his dumbfounded expression and laughed, "Don't worry about this mess. I just need your help carrying some boxes upstairs and unpacking them. Mom got a head start on her own things while I was at school, so most of the stuff I need to bring up is mine."
"Did you get your own room?" he asked, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the staircase bannister. He watched her nod absentmindedly as she lugged a box from behind the couch over to where he was standing.
"It's right next to Sheryl's room." She smiled and glanced at the box at their feet. "Now, come on, Gerry, chop, chop. We don't have all day."
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"So, I suppose having a big, strong boyfriend IS handy," Isabelle mused, standing at her doorway with Gerry at her back. She surveyed the piles of boxes in her new room-boxes filled with all her things from California, plus all her things from her first home in Alexandria.
"Glad you think so highly of me," he laughed. He stepped into her room and pulled a box from the top of a pile, setting it down and peaking inside. "Wow. I didn't know you still had stuffed animals. Aren't you a little old for teddy bears?"
Isabelle grabbed a bear out of his hands and held it close. "No," she said defiantly. "And for your information, they're decorative."
"What about that one on your bed? Ain't it kind of old and worn out?"
"Just help me unpack!"
Gerry laughed and pulled another box from the pile onto the floor as Isabelle threw her animals onto her bed and tossed the box off to the side. She looked over at Gerry who was once again prowling through her belongings in an attempt to help her unpack, until he carried a box over to her window. He set it down and stared out into the vast field that was the backyard, marveling at the golden tones of the tall grassland as it stretched out into the open. The warm hues of each leaf culminated into a rich, autumn scene of swaying trees and falling leaves. He could practically hear the ground crunch and the fall breeze kiss his cheeks when Isabelle moved next to him.
"Nice view, huh?"
"Very nice," he agreed. "In fact, too nice to waste inside."
She glanced back and forth between his face and the landscape before them -- fall had never looked this beautiful in California. Grabbing his hand, she led him out of her room and dragged him down the stairs as he confusedly protested.
"You're right," she explained, throwing him his jacket and skipping out the back door. "It's way too nice outside to be up in my stuffy room unpacking."
Gerry shook his head and pulled on his warm jacket, all the while murmuring, "I will never understand you, Isabelle. But, that's what makes you all the more exciting." He stepped out the back door to find her treading the long blades of grass, staring out into the fields where a small forest lurked.
"Don't you wish everyday was like this?" she called out, stopping to wait for him. "Lazy and beautiful and peaceful? I mean, this is what it's all about, don't you think?"
He took her hand in his and looked down at her inquisitively. "What what's all about?"
"How do I say this without sounding cliché?" she murmured, leading him to the massive oak tree near the edge of the yard. "Everyday, we run around; always in a hurry. We've got classes to go to, homework to get done, chores that need to be tended, papers that have to be written, and just a mindless, endless list of things to do day after day after day. But, when you think about it and when you look back, you're never going to remember what Mr. Wesley said third hour, or math problem number twelve, or how fast you were able to do the dishes, or the essay on the societal impact of religion -- but, I'll bet you anything that you'll remember today.
"You'll be able to look back in a few years and remember which tree you stood under with your gorgeous girlfriend, how bright the sun was when you came outside, and how much you wanted to be out here because it was such a nice day."
Gerry sat down and leaned against the tree trunk, pulling Isabelle down and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back against him and smiled. "Do I sound completely off my rocker? I've been cooped up inside that house with all the windows closed, inhaling cleanser fumes, so I wouldn't be surprised if I sounded like an idiot."
He laughed aloud, "I have to admit that what you said was unusually intense and out of the blue, but it made sense." He paused. "It's been a hell of a ride these past few months, hasn't it?"
She snorted. "Yeah, that's an understatement. It's been high and low and everything in between, but I'd have to say it worked out perfectly in the end."
"And we still have the rest of the year to look forward to."
She settled comfortably in his arms and looked around her, before spying an old, worn out football a few yards away. "This is where it all began," she murmured to him. "All those months ago, right here in Bill's backyard."
"Now, that's a day I know I won't forget," he said, as she turned around to face him. "I remember it very clearly -- it was warm out, you were wearing this cute little skirt but still insisted on playing around, and you kept bragging about how good you were on offense and how you always scored and won, and despite all your boasting, we had an amazing connection."
"Yeah, especially when you landed on top of me in a tackle. Trust me, we definitely connected," she added, grimacing at the memory's pain.
He chuckled and kissed her forehead, drawing her to him in the sunset's growing chill. "I know I'll always remember that day because that was the first time I met you. And I know I'll never forget today because it'll be the first time I'll tell you that…well, Isabelle Brooke, I love you."
Stunned and surprised, Isabelle stared at him, her mouth gaping open. "Huh?" she squeaked.
"I'm completely in love with you," he repeated, grinning in amusement. "And I'm serious here -- even the guys can tell, and they're ragging on me about it."
Isabelle smiled and leaned her forehead on his, murmuring, "Well, rag as they may, this is fantastic news, because Gerry Bertier, I love you, too."
He grinned widely and pulled her closer to him in a deep, all-consuming kiss, that left them breathless and dazed. But, before Isabelle moved in to kiss him again and said softly, "I told you I played good offense."
T H E E N D
Her cold breath swirled in the chilling afternoon air as the sun shone brightly, failing to radiate enough warmth to pry her sweater from her shoulders. Isabelle rubbed her hands together as she sat on her new porch swing, patiently waiting. Birds flew across the brilliantly clear sky heading south, their calls occasionally interrupting the continuous sounds of crunching leaves, whispering winds, and the creak of the porch swing as it gently swayed back and forth.
She enjoyed the quiet solitude that surrounded her, a rare moment in her new life. Living with a newly married couple and new little sister never provided her a dull or peaceful moment. Her mother and Coach Yoast had finally left for their long awaited honeymoon in Hawaii, after the Titans had victoriously claimed the national title. The week between the game and their vacation departure had been full of celebrations and parties, and frankly, she was exhausted.
Instantly becoming big sister was also an adjustment, but Isabelle hardly minded the little girl following her around, asking questions, and dragging her out to play. However, today the always active, always bouncy Sheryl was away at a friend's house and her new home seemed even bigger, lonelier, and more unfamiliar. Being the only one left at home, her mother had left her with the task of unpacking their belongings and storing them accordingly. It was not exactly the way she had pictured spending her Saturday.
The faint rumble of a car pulling into the driveway startled Isabelle out of her thoughts and moved a delighted grin across her face. The familiar car slowly rolled over the gravel-paved path, coming to an abrupt halt before crashing into the basketball pole. Gerry smiled and waved to her as he unbuckled his seatbelt and unfolded his long limbs from his car before hopping up onto the porch.
"Well, hey there, champ," she grinned. Her eyes willingly settled on his long, muscular frame and thought how above all the esteemed athletes at school, that red and white letterman jacket seemed to look its best on Gerry's shoulders.
"Champ? What are you callin' me that for?" he laughed, circling his arms around her waist and drawing her closer to him. She looked awfully cold in that thin sweater of hers.
"Well," she countered, "how does one greet the captain of America's best high school football team?"
He leaned down and murmured, "Hmm, well, a kiss would be nice." Isabelle gladly obliged him, and then moments later pulled away, their breaths coming out in big, cloud-like puffs.
"Thanks for coming over and helping me unpack," she said, leading him inside. Gerry stepped into his coach's house and was amazed at the mess of unpacked things in the living room -- he never imaged that Isabelle and her mom could acquire so much in such a short span of time.
She caught his dumbfounded expression and laughed, "Don't worry about this mess. I just need your help carrying some boxes upstairs and unpacking them. Mom got a head start on her own things while I was at school, so most of the stuff I need to bring up is mine."
"Did you get your own room?" he asked, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the staircase bannister. He watched her nod absentmindedly as she lugged a box from behind the couch over to where he was standing.
"It's right next to Sheryl's room." She smiled and glanced at the box at their feet. "Now, come on, Gerry, chop, chop. We don't have all day."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"So, I suppose having a big, strong boyfriend IS handy," Isabelle mused, standing at her doorway with Gerry at her back. She surveyed the piles of boxes in her new room-boxes filled with all her things from California, plus all her things from her first home in Alexandria.
"Glad you think so highly of me," he laughed. He stepped into her room and pulled a box from the top of a pile, setting it down and peaking inside. "Wow. I didn't know you still had stuffed animals. Aren't you a little old for teddy bears?"
Isabelle grabbed a bear out of his hands and held it close. "No," she said defiantly. "And for your information, they're decorative."
"What about that one on your bed? Ain't it kind of old and worn out?"
"Just help me unpack!"
Gerry laughed and pulled another box from the pile onto the floor as Isabelle threw her animals onto her bed and tossed the box off to the side. She looked over at Gerry who was once again prowling through her belongings in an attempt to help her unpack, until he carried a box over to her window. He set it down and stared out into the vast field that was the backyard, marveling at the golden tones of the tall grassland as it stretched out into the open. The warm hues of each leaf culminated into a rich, autumn scene of swaying trees and falling leaves. He could practically hear the ground crunch and the fall breeze kiss his cheeks when Isabelle moved next to him.
"Nice view, huh?"
"Very nice," he agreed. "In fact, too nice to waste inside."
She glanced back and forth between his face and the landscape before them -- fall had never looked this beautiful in California. Grabbing his hand, she led him out of her room and dragged him down the stairs as he confusedly protested.
"You're right," she explained, throwing him his jacket and skipping out the back door. "It's way too nice outside to be up in my stuffy room unpacking."
Gerry shook his head and pulled on his warm jacket, all the while murmuring, "I will never understand you, Isabelle. But, that's what makes you all the more exciting." He stepped out the back door to find her treading the long blades of grass, staring out into the fields where a small forest lurked.
"Don't you wish everyday was like this?" she called out, stopping to wait for him. "Lazy and beautiful and peaceful? I mean, this is what it's all about, don't you think?"
He took her hand in his and looked down at her inquisitively. "What what's all about?"
"How do I say this without sounding cliché?" she murmured, leading him to the massive oak tree near the edge of the yard. "Everyday, we run around; always in a hurry. We've got classes to go to, homework to get done, chores that need to be tended, papers that have to be written, and just a mindless, endless list of things to do day after day after day. But, when you think about it and when you look back, you're never going to remember what Mr. Wesley said third hour, or math problem number twelve, or how fast you were able to do the dishes, or the essay on the societal impact of religion -- but, I'll bet you anything that you'll remember today.
"You'll be able to look back in a few years and remember which tree you stood under with your gorgeous girlfriend, how bright the sun was when you came outside, and how much you wanted to be out here because it was such a nice day."
Gerry sat down and leaned against the tree trunk, pulling Isabelle down and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back against him and smiled. "Do I sound completely off my rocker? I've been cooped up inside that house with all the windows closed, inhaling cleanser fumes, so I wouldn't be surprised if I sounded like an idiot."
He laughed aloud, "I have to admit that what you said was unusually intense and out of the blue, but it made sense." He paused. "It's been a hell of a ride these past few months, hasn't it?"
She snorted. "Yeah, that's an understatement. It's been high and low and everything in between, but I'd have to say it worked out perfectly in the end."
"And we still have the rest of the year to look forward to."
She settled comfortably in his arms and looked around her, before spying an old, worn out football a few yards away. "This is where it all began," she murmured to him. "All those months ago, right here in Bill's backyard."
"Now, that's a day I know I won't forget," he said, as she turned around to face him. "I remember it very clearly -- it was warm out, you were wearing this cute little skirt but still insisted on playing around, and you kept bragging about how good you were on offense and how you always scored and won, and despite all your boasting, we had an amazing connection."
"Yeah, especially when you landed on top of me in a tackle. Trust me, we definitely connected," she added, grimacing at the memory's pain.
He chuckled and kissed her forehead, drawing her to him in the sunset's growing chill. "I know I'll always remember that day because that was the first time I met you. And I know I'll never forget today because it'll be the first time I'll tell you that…well, Isabelle Brooke, I love you."
Stunned and surprised, Isabelle stared at him, her mouth gaping open. "Huh?" she squeaked.
"I'm completely in love with you," he repeated, grinning in amusement. "And I'm serious here -- even the guys can tell, and they're ragging on me about it."
Isabelle smiled and leaned her forehead on his, murmuring, "Well, rag as they may, this is fantastic news, because Gerry Bertier, I love you, too."
He grinned widely and pulled her closer to him in a deep, all-consuming kiss, that left them breathless and dazed. But, before Isabelle moved in to kiss him again and said softly, "I told you I played good offense."
T H E E N D
