Ch 46 ~ Trespassing

In Rachel’s opinion, Navesink River Road had never looked as beautiful as it did on this sunny April afternoon.  Anybody who thought New Jersey was an ugly, factory-laden state had never been to the area Jon called home.  The curves along the road were as familiar as though she’d driven them yesterday instead of all those months ago.

Being here with Jon was wonderful and exciting, but she was really curious to see what the new owners of “her” house had done with the place.  She imagined that it would be similar to the way she left it, seeing as they’d requested all the furnishings, but one never knew.  There had been many unexpected renovations and remodels in her real estate career.

I wonder if the pool is open yet.

Her knee bounced with anticipation and, when they passed the stone dolphin holding the neighbor’s mailbox, she thought she might actually jump out of her skin with excitement.  It would have been her old house they were passing if he hadn’t gotten a hankering for Crazee’s ice cream.  Because of that, they came across the bridge and from the opposite direction than they usually did.

A gentle left turn and the car glided through Jon’s open gates, past the engraved address marker reading “High Point”.  The instant the bumper was inside the perimeter wall, the enormous house loomed in front of them and a satisfied grin filled her face at the sense of being “home”.  If she craned her neck to the right, just beyond Jon’s studio she could see the tip of the roofline of the house where she had once lived. 

Another left at the front of the house took them through an alcove and the SUV stopped in front of the family entrance.  It was here that Rachel unsnapped her seatbelt and flipped the door open, the sweet smell of the Navesink River instantly filling her nose. 

While Jon was busy talking with the driver and pushing their two bags into the house, Rachel directed her footsteps back through the alcove and toward the driveway.  She walked beyond the side of the house, her face splitting into a contented grin when she caught the full view of the river’s beauty. 

There were so many pleasant memories here, and she paused to let them dance through her mind like a childlike kaleidoscope of happiness.   

“You know it’d be really hard to put a price on this view.”

Rachel sighed contentedly as she sat on the edge of the wooden pier dipping her feet in and out of the cool river water. Dusk was beginning to settle and the sky was streaked with pink and purple pastels as the sun continued its nighttime descent.

“You’d be the expert on that!” Jon spoke from beside her, slouching comfortably on his side idly twisting the stem of his wine glass between his thumb and forefinger. The half empty bottle sat in a cooler beside them, beads of condensation running freely down its side.

Rachel smiled softly and shook her head wistfully. “There are just some things in this world that can’t have a price put on them.”

It had been only minutes afterward that they’d shared their first kiss on the very dock she was looking at now.  That kiss was one more of those priceless things in the world.

As if sensing her thoughts, Jon appeared at her side and hooked an arm around her neck, pressing a kiss to her temple.  “Whatcha doin’?” he mumbled, his breath heating her cheek.

“Just reminiscing a little.”

“Good memories or bad?”

“It’s odd,” she laughed, unable to tear her gaze away from the frolicking ghosts of Relationship Past. “I don’t remember anything but the good.  I look at the dock and find myself reflecting on boat rides with the kids, sunsets, and wine right there on that little bench.   That’s where you kissed me for the first time, remember?”

“Only two things I really remember about the first kiss,” he confessed like the true ‘guy’ he was.  “Looking down your shirt when you bent over to put your shoes on and trying to walk back to the house with a hard-on you weren't going to relieve me of.”

Rachel couldn’t do anything but laugh and shake her head.  “I’m lost in sweet memories and all you can manage to recall is your perpetual hard-on.”

“I’ve just spent a week trying to have quiet sex because I was trapped on a boat with my ex-wife, her boyfriend and my kids.  Gimme a break, will ya?”

“It wouldn’t matter if we’d spent the last week naked and alone on a deserted island.  You’d still only remember looking down my dress.”

Jon unwound his arm from her neck and twirled her around to face him, sliding his hands down her arms.  “Not true,” he countered, settling his hands onto the curves of her hips.  “I also remember how you got so into that kiss you slithered up onto my lap.”

The joy spouted from Rachel in laughter that bubbled from her very soul.  It was so perfectly perfect to be back here with him. 

Her merriment was interrupted by a soft tap to her behind, and Jon’s fingers locked into hers with a gentle pull.  “C’mon.  Let’s take a walk.”

“You’re dragging me off to the pub to get me drunk enough to have your way with me, aren’t you?” she teased, yet followed willingly along.  There was no place on his estate that she wasn’t eager to see, touch and smell – to revisit and remember.

“Please.” He rolled his eyes and towed her along the pathway that separated High Point from the neighboring property.  “I’ve never needed alcohol to get you outta your panties.”

“No, you were potent enough all on your own, Jonny,” she agreed, a beautiful spring breeze filling her nostrils as his pedestrian gate came into view.  Through the gate was the easement road between his property and the house that she’d lived in, which had been well traveled during their time in New Jersey.

It seemed as though he intended to make the familiar trek when he punched the correct sequence on the security pad at the gate.   She followed him through and down the little blacktop lane that separated the properties, eager to take a peek into the yard next door.   Loosely intertwined fingers swung between them as they walked, until Rachel was finally able to see the house she’d called home when she’d lived in New Jersey. 

“Look, Jon!  The gates are open on my house.”

“Fuckers didn’t work right half the time,” he snorted disdainfully.

Rachel laughed for what felt like the millionth time since arriving, reveling in the lightness of the Jersey air.  His words instantly transported her to that hot summer day when she’d found herself stuck outside those very gates – because they weren’t working right.  She never would’ve been able to get them open on her own.  It was only because of Jon, who had just happened along, that the monstrous iron barriers had been pried apart just enough to get her suitcases through the gap. 

“C’mon, Rach… Let’s take a walk around.  For old time’s sake.”

He was hauling her down the driveway even as she tried to dig her heels into the pavement.  She wasn’t big into the whole trespassing thing, and she knew nothing about the current occupants.  They may be even less into it than she was. 

“Jon, we can’t just take a leisurely stroll over the grounds.  Somebody lives here now, and they might not appreciate it.”

He paid her no heed and continued to tug her along behind him, toward the front door.  “Maybe
we’ll run into somebody and they’ll invite us in for a drink.” 

“Jon…”  Her voice was perfectly reasonable when trying to rationalize with him, but reasonable flew out the window of mortification when his fingers closed over the front door handle.  He was going to go in there! 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, jerking her hand free of his.  “You can’t strut in there like you own the place!”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong baby.”  He glanced over his shoulder with a cocked eyebrow and pushed open the door in spite of her objections.  “I do own it.  Technically.  Until you sign the papers, at least.  Then it’ll be yours.”

He…  Who…  How…  What in the…  WHAT?!?