the first one • j. hughes

18

Age 9:

My face was scrunched in confusion staring through the windshield at the old, wooden house. The sign on the porch railing was so faded that it couldn't even be read. Dad looked downright excited though. Jack... Let's just say, Jack and I were sharing emotions that day.

It started with about ten arguments within the first hour of being awake. Then we wouldn't stop laughing. Then we didn't stop arguing. Mom was being driven up the damn wall. It was the first summer she'd ever taken on the task of six kids vs her for a bit. Usually, she and Ellen would find ways to separate Jack and me on days we shared our emotions.

It was a Saturday and Dad was refusing to separate us. He had a different approach. AKA take us out of the house alone and pray we stayed in a good mood. We didn't. Half of the hour's drive was spent with us dead asleep, slumped on each other. The other half was spent arguing. A truck that's only that front bench seat isn't built for arguments.

"C'mon, guys," Dad said, getting out. Jack and I shared a concerned look but we only had one choice. It was July and hot and maybe that house had better AC than the truck would.

Our first impression of it all was fear and/or worry. We held hands as we followed Dad through the tall shelves that looked ready to topple over at any moment. Dad kind of looked like a bull in a China shop but, as usual, nothing bad happened.

"Jason!" Someone shouted.

The space opened up as we walked through a wide, open doorway. Turning into a small restaurant-looking dining room with no matching tables or chairs whatsoever. The room looked like it went on for much longer than what seemed logical for the house.

An older lady smiled at Jack and me as we cowered behind Dad. She sighed almost nostalgically. "Y'know, J, I always thought the day you brought kids around here was the day pigs flew. Which I remember you trying to make a reality."

"You jokingly throw one piglet a little too high and all of a sudden you're trying to make pigs fly," Dad said.

"Well, come on in! Have a seat anywhere." Mystery Lady waved us further into the room.

Dad did the same when he realized we were not moving whatsoever. "Anywhere you want, kiddos."

"Jack," I whispered. Right as he whispered my name. As I said, we were the same that day.

"Three sweet teas, Miss Lacy," Dad said. He took a seat at a table and we scrambled to follow suit.

"I didn't want sweet tea," I told him.

He shook his head. "This is the best sweet tea you'll ever have. Better than Mamaw's."

"Nuh-uh." Jack sounded more offended than I felt. I was seriously offended by the way. Mamaw's sweet tea is liquid gold.

"We'll see how long you think that."

* * * * *

It was the best sweet tea I'd ever had in my life. So good, Jack and I practically skipped out to the car each with a Mason jar of it to take home. I don't know if it was actually that good or if it was the fact that Miss Lacy spent the whole time talking to Dad about when he came here all the time during the summers. He and his Michigan friends in high school were regulars all the way throughout college.

I couldn't wait to get home and rub it into Penn and Holly's faces that I got to go there and they didn't. It'd be revenge for Penn bragging about Dad taking him to a Red Wings game that February. Or Holly bragging about Mom taking her and not me to Aunt Liz's wedding all the time. This was my special thing. Well, and Jack's.

"Now," Dad said as he started the truck up. "I don't want you goofs running off and telling everyone about this place. It'll be our little secret. No siblings allowed."

Jack and I looked at each other. Looked at our jars. At each other. Then, smiled. Our little secret. We didn't mind having another one of those, especially with Dad in on it. I'm sure Dad knew that before he did it. I'm sure that was his whole plan because it worked. Jack and I didn't argue once for the next week. Not even when any of our siblings tried roping us into opposite sides.

"Our little secret," I repeated. It was sealed. Miss Lacy's was mine, Jack's, and Dad's.