tate August with the tee cream rrit jingle will echoing through the wright hered
Jordan, rarving a work of manners, merged from the Literatore Department office, evidentally bumping into Emmett with his reaching merisk
Their papers scattered across the flame. As Ernment cronched to gather them, his black fimmed glasses nearly slipped to the tip of his nose Jordan content help laughing at his flustered appearance.
Her laughter startled sparrows from the sycamore trees otside. Emmett looked up, his gaze meeting the starlight in her eyes.
Since her approaching graduation, such encounters had become increasingly frequent–sometimes at corridor corners, sometimes at the cafeteria counter, where Emmen would blushingly slip an extra homemade chocolate chip cookie into her lunch box, muttering. You need to eat more.”
Che autumn evening. Jordan waited for Emmett outside the faculty dormitory.
Having graduated, she now rented an apartment near campus and worked full time at the newspaper, though she occasionally visited the university to see her roommate, who had stayed on as a teaching assistant.
More importantly…
The wind swirled golden leaves around her feet as she clutched her latest article published in “Young Literary Review,” her fingers trembling slightly
As dormitory lights switched on one by one, she finally spotted that familiar figure hurrying toward her.
“Jordan, I’m sorry–grading papers took longer than expected…” Before he could finish, Jordan thrust the magazine into his arms.
Emmett traced her name on the cover, his eyes deepening with emotion. Suddenly, he pulled a small oil paper package from his pocket.
Unwrapping the layers revealed a cracked fruit candy. “My mother sent this from Portland. I’ve been saving it, thinking you might like it.…..”
“Jordan, you’ve graduated now. We’re no longer bound by the teacher–student relationship. Perhaps… would you consider a new beginning with me?”
The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the ground. As the candy’s sweetness dissolved on her tongue, Jordan heard her own heart pounding fiercely.
“Yes.”
The following spring, campus plum blossoms were in full bloom.
Emmett took Jordan to the hill behind the university, where wild azaleas blanketed the slopes in vibrant color.
He suddenly produced a small red silk pouch containing a silver ring with a tiny cotton flower engraved on it. “Jordan, I don’t have much money. This ring was made by an old craftsman at the ironworks…”
Before he could finish, Jordan threw herself into his arms, tears dampening his faded blue shirt.
Their wedding was set for Christmas’s Day, 1985.
The hall was simply decorated with colored paper and streamers. Emmett’s friends from the military band volunteered to play “Wedding March.”
Jordan wore the red wedding dress Emmett’s mother had sent, and was preparing to toast the guests when a commotion erupted outside.
“Jordan! We’re your parents!” Her mother’s shrill voice penetrated the noise.
“Let us in! We gave birth to you, raised you–how can you treat us this way? Yes, we made mistakes, but you never said anything! We’ve acknowledged
our errors now!”
Through the hall’s glass windows, Jordan, saw two hunched figures being restrained by security guards.
Her father’s jacket sleeves were worn thin, and her mother’s hair was disheveled with straw and dirt, looking like refugees from a construction site.
14:46
