Entries tagged with when: the past

She hadn't thought about how far reaching the consequences would be when she asked the boy (Leonard, she mentally corrected herself) to dance. Clay had just been acting like Clay, and she'd come to the conclusion that she needed to teach him a lesson. Jocelyn didn't even know who the first poor boy had been that she'd asked to dance, only that he'd passed out shortly after her question, and then she'd moved on. To Leonard. He had the most mesmerizing eyes she'd ever seen, and she was sure the look that invaded them when she held out her hand would stay with her forever. They'd danced, and somehow over the course of that song, it had become less about teaching Clay Treadway a lesson in jealousy and humility, and about enjoying herself. When the song had ended she was hesitant to see it stop, and a part of her thrilled when Leonard had asked her to stay on the floor. The feeling had lasted until Clay had punched poor Leonard without any kind of warning and tried to drag her off. She'd been angry, of course she'd been angry, and had just been on the verge of giving Clay a piece of her mind when a punch to his nose knocked him flat on his ass. A punch from Leonard, whose eyes held less in the way of malice towards Clay and more than a little bit of hopeful concern when aimed at her.

It was only thanks to sheer luck and determination on her part as well as the small crowd gathering around them that kept those punches from turning into a full out brawl. The two combatants were sent to separate corners of the room while she remained in the middle, expectation hanging heavy over her head. There was a decision that needed to be made now-- did she go home with the boy that had brought her to the dance, or did she leave with the boy that had taken on the role of her self appointed knight in shining armor? She and Clay had been an item for as long as she could remember either in action or thought. Her family had practically married her off to him while they were both still in diapers and it was something she'd just gone along with for no better reason than it had been expected of her to do so. Maybe though, just maybe, it was time for a change.

"Leonard, will you walk me home, please?"

It was as if the world stood still, and she could practically hear the collective gasp that went through the gymnasium from the group that had started paying attention to her own personal melodrama. Clay began protesting as soon as she started walking away from him, back turning on the better part of her teenage years with one simple (and extremely loaded) question.

This changes everything, she thought, but when she put her arm through Leonard's and was rewarded with a smile from him, she decided that change was for the best.

The photograph was unexpected considering she’d thought she’d packed all of them in boxes and shoved them in the attic. She hadn’t expected to find it sitting in the bottom of her drawer like an accusation, nor had she expected the pang of nostalgia that came with it. It was from before-- before her father in law’s death, before the drinking and the bitterness, before the divorce… from a time when they were happy. Jocelyn could still remember that day vividly; the weather was beautiful for October and the sun was unexpectedly warm on her skin, a perfect breeze carrying hints of a summer that refused to go quietly into fall.

Their picnic had been a last minute decision by the both of them in an effort to enjoy the weather before the cold inevitably took it’s turn, starting with time on the lake and moving to the edge of one of the fields. They laughed and joked, enjoying one another’s company and the soft tickle of the grass through the blanket while Len snapped away with the camera. She could only smile as he explained that he wanted to keep the day with him, be able to look at the pictures when school made him want to tear his hair out.

When he’d finished his explanation, Jocelyn sat up from where she’d been laying against the pillow of his arm to stare down at him. She was both excited and nervous as she bit at her finger, trying to decide exactly how to share her news. Eventually she simply blurted it out, the two words she’d been waiting to say since the first night he'd told her he wanted her to have his baby.

“I’m pregnant.”

She’d expected the budding doctor in him to make his presence know by asking a million questions. When? How long have you known? or even some kind of nervousness at the prospect of being a father. Instead there were arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back down into him, his hand tangling in her hair when he kissed her, her lips, her cheek, her jaw, her neck-- whatever skin he could reach with his free hand tugging at the sorry excuse of a dress she’d been wearing.

He made love to her there on the blanket under a dying sun with the sky lit up like flame. When they lay there afterwards in the twilight, with the vivid oranges fading into more subdued shades of violet and the chill began to creep in, those arms had pulled her in close to keep it at bay. She felt safe and loved, and she knew in that moment that everything was going to be wonderful for them; especially when she felt the kiss pressed against the crown of her hair and that rumble of a voice whisper in proud awe, “You’re gonna have my baby.”

~~~~~~~~~

Jocelyn barely registered the tear on her cheek as she brushed it away, taking a breath and smoothing the front of her blouse.

The picture was put back into the bottom of the drawer.

This changes everything (RP for get_me_a_drink)

(no subject)