All I Want Is You

It was the smell of bacon and eggs that woke me up. I smiled, knowing that Mom was down in the kitchen preparing an elaborate breakfast. It wasn’t unusual either. She cooked breakfasts like this every morning.

I pulled on Jackson’s arms, which were locked around me. He grunted, his arms tightening around my waist.

“Jackson. Time to get up!” I whispered loudly, wiggling beneath his arms.

“Ugh.” He groaned, loosening his grip enough for me to sit up.

“Come on! Can you not smell that! I know you want some bacon and eggs.”

“I can smell.” He said groggily.

“Good! Get up. I’m hungry. Let’s go. It’s not snowing and I want to go downtown!”

“Are you immune to jetlag?” he asked as I threw him a pair of jeans.

“I think I am!” I said cheerily, pulling my jeans on. He just smiled and shook his head. I checked my Blackberry as he pulled on a clean shirt. He came up behind me, resting his head on my shoulder.

“Anything new?” he asked, kissing my bare shoulder.

“Nope. No crisis’s to report. No one sewed themselves to a garment or burnt the place down.” I turned and kissed him before pulling on a plain t-shirt.

He waited until I was dressed before he opened the door.

“Ladies first.” He grinned.

“You just want to look at my ass.” I said as I walked by.

“Maybe.” He answered, a smirk on his face.

..................................................................................................................................................................................................

It was cold but sunny outside. We had decided to walk downtown after breakfast, leaving Mom and Dad behind so we could do some last minute Christmas shopping.

Jackson and I walked hand in hand down the hill and into town. I pointed out houses of people I knew along the way and threw snowballs at a very cold Jackson.

“Are we going inside soon?” he asked, his teeth chattering.

“Right now!” I said, opening the door of Baxter’s Gifts.

“Welcome to Baxter’s how may I h—Lizzie Evans, is that you?”

“Hi, Mrs. B! How are you?” I asked the elderly woman, giving her a gentle hug.

“I’m great, hips are going bad, but I’m trying to keep busy.” She said. “How about you?”

“I’m just home for a bit before Christmas. Visiting Mom and Dad.” I answered.

“I heard about the clothing line! That’s great, your parents are so proud.” She said before continuing. “And I’m assuming this is the boy your mother’s told me about.”

“Yeah. This is Jackson.” I said. “Jackson, this is Mrs. Baxter.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jackson said, shaking her hand.

Mrs. Baxter continued chattering on about the latest town gossip while Jackson and I browsed the small selection of gifts in the store.

We picked out a cashmere scarf for my mother and paid at the cash, closing the door on a still chattering Mrs. Baxter.

I rested my head on Jackson’s shoulder as we continued down Main Street, mostly window shopping and enjoying the nice day in a different setting then we were used too.

As we passed the theatre I looked up when I heard the sounds of feet that weren’t ours. I realized by looking at my watch and then at the show times that a showing of Twilight had just ended. I wasn’t worried, Jackson didn’t look a thing like he did in the movie, so I just pushed my way through the crowd.

But I guess word of who I was dating had got around the town, and I was recognizable.

“That’s them. That’s Lizzie, so that must be him!” I heard someone whispering behind us.

Jackson looked at me, his eyebrow raised. I shook my head and sped up our steps, trying to ignore the increasing hum of whispers behind us.

“Excuse me!” A brave soul from the crowd hollered out.

Instinctively, we both turned around. A girl, about sixteen, stood at the front of a group of girls, all the same age.

“Are you Jackson Rathbone?” She asked Jackson.

“Er, yeah.” He said, his hand clenching mine tighter. I suddenly recognized the girl. I used to baby sit her.

“Oh my god!” She said, rushing ahead. She thrust a mini Twilight poster in front of Jackson. “Will you sign this?” she asked, pen in hand.

“Sure.” Jackson said, taking the pen and scribbling his name on the poster. The rest of the girls got up their courage then and all produced identical posters for Jackson to sign.

“Do you know Robert?” One of them asked, her eyes wide in wonder. I smiled down at her. I recognized her as Mrs. Baxter’s granddaughter Lucy.

“Yeah, we do.” He answered, signing another poster. One of the little girls looked up at me.

“Hi Lizzie.” She said, her blue eyes full of excitement.

“Hi.” I said, shaking her mitten covered hand.

“We heard you were dating Jackson. Everyone at school talks about it.” She said, glancing at the girls with her.

“Oh, really?” I said, embarrassed to be the talk of our small town.

“Yeah, a lot of people didn’t believe it, but when we tell them, they’ll have to believe us.”

“Yeah.” One of the other girls said. Just then a red haired girl stepped ahead, digital camera in hand.

“Could we get a picture before you go?” She asked, her hands shaking.

I looked at Jackson, who smiled and nodded his head.

“Sure.” I said, as the group of girls arranged themselves around us. I offered to take the picture but the girls insisted I was in the picture too. Finally one of them asked the ticket person in the theatre to take the picture.

We said our goodbyes and decided that we would head back home, opting to give my Dad some money along with the gift we had already bought him.

Fan encounters in Winthrop were something I had never expected.