Real Men Knit

by Kwana Jackson

  “You can sleep in here,” he said, opening Damian’s door and flipping the light on in the room that was usually off limits to everyone but his prickly brother. He was instantly assaulted by the heat of the closed-in space and rushed over to crank up the in-window air conditioner. “You don’t have to do that for me,” Kerry said. “I don’t want to put you through any extra trouble or add to your mounting bills.”

  He shook his head. “Stop with the trouble. It’s hot as hell in here. I need you rested and comfortable to be at your best anyway.”

  Kerry nodded and looked away from him, nothing further to add to his comment.

  Feeling the need to fill the silence, Jesse continued, “Sorry, it’s been a while since anyone has been in this room, and when he’s not here, Damian keeps everything shut tight.” He glanced at the bed. It was, as always, made to almost military precision. But the fact that it hadn’t been slept on had him worried about dust. Jesse leaned over and gave the linens a big sweep of his hand.

  “It’s fine, Jes. You don’t have to do that,” she said, looking around. He knew she was taking in Damian’s various sports plaques and trophies that Mama Joy had still kept up and on display for him. As if Damian needed any further motivation to remember his greatness.

  Jesse cleared his throat. “You’re right. I was just, um, making sure. The sheets should be clean.”

  “Even if they’re not, at this point, I’m too tired to care.”

  He smiled, then blinked, getting her meaning but not really wanting to leave. He was suddenly glad she was there. Though she wasn’t saying much, she made the silence of the house that much less quiet. “Oh yeah, right. Well, I’ll leave you, then. The bathroom is down the hall. I’ll hang in my room for a while so that you can go first.”

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I mean, you don’t need to thank me. Just good night or, well, see you in the morning,” he said on the way out the door.

  He couldn’t stay and say more, and he’d already taken things past the point of awkward, he thought as he now stood in the hall outside the room. He knew if he stood there any longer, he just might ask her to sit up with him. To talk to him until he fell asleep. To let him hear her voice and take away this terrible overwhelming feeling of loneliness that was getting old every night.

  But just then Damian’s door opened, and Jesse jumped. NERD!! went screaming through his head.

  “You’re still here,” Kerry said softly.

  He looked at her with surprise he had no business feeling. “Oh, um, yeah. I was just going to ask if you had remembered to pack your toothbrush and tell you where the towels are.” He went to the linen closet and selected a towel and washcloth for her. It was an old set that had been in the closet for ages, unused by any of his brothers. The guest set. Cream with a pretty rosebud embroidery on the edge.

  Jesse handed them to Kerry, and she took them with a small smile. “Thanks. I didn’t remember a towel.” But then she waved a toothbrush in his face. “But I did remember my toothbrush. At least I was thinking that far.”

  He nodded. This was getting weird. Things had never been this awkward between the two of them. It was getting into the land of Strangeville. “Well, okay then,” he said quickly. “My work here is done.” Okay, beyond Strangeville—he was entering Weirdville. Who talked like this?

  Kerry raised a brow and started off toward the bathroom. “Good night. Again.”

  He nodded and waved. “Good night.” Fucking waved with a goofy shake of his hand like a full-on rom-com movie dweeb. He looked down to see if perhaps his pants had hiked up to past his belly button and tight around his balls.

  Jesse closed his door and said a silent prayer that both sleep and the morning would come quickly, because the sooner Kerry was gone, the better for all involved.

  10

  Sooo, Kerry thought. She was taking a shower for the second time in just a few hours, but she was hot and maybe a little bothered and Jesse Strong was just a few feet down the hall sleeping. That wasn’t awkward. Much.

  Nope, she told herself. It wasn’t awkward at all. But it was morning now, and she’d had her more than way past awkward night and then some. Cheap wings, a minor explosion, wet body and pointy nipples on parade included. But today was a new day, and she would not make more of this little sleepover than it was.

  After changing into a top that was overly wrinkled, due to the duffel bag throw-in, and last night’s leggings—that was what she got for not being as prepared as Mrs. Robins with the go-bag—Kerry let out a calming breath and told herself once again that none of this was a big deal. She was lucky and grateful that Jesse had come to her rescue last night, and today she’d let him know in the most unawkward, easygoing way possible. She’d get coffee going and make a quick breakfast—wait, maybe not on the breakfast. Cooking would just make the situation more awkward. To the point of bordering on desperation, she thought as she went back into Damian’s room and once again made sure the bed was perfectly made and nothing was out of place. Her stomach growled. Maybe she’d run to the corner and pick up some breakfast sandwiches. That wasn’t weird. It was closer to something that coworkers did, anyway, and nowhere near as intimate as what making breakfast implied.

  Grabbing her wristlet, she made her way quietly past Jesse’s closed door and down to the next level on the way out the residence entrance.

  She was just about to pass the kitchen when she was stopped in her tracks. “You’re not going to dip out on me without a word, are you? Now, how is that any way to show gratitude to the guy who put you up last night?”

  Huh and what?

  There was Jesse already up and over by the stove looking way better than any man ought to in shorts, a tank and an apron that only served to outline the fantastic athletic shape of his body.

  He turned her way and smiled, his locs, for a moment, haloed by the early-morning sun coming though the kitchen window. Kerry swallowed, suddenly parched.

  “Um, no, I wasn’t. I was just going to run out and get some coffee. I thought maybe pick up a couple of sandwiches.”

  He walked over to her with a grace and smoothness that should be illegal. Who knew, maybe it was in certain counties down South. He took the wristlet from her hand and sat it on the old Formica table.

  “No need,” he said. “I already have everything ready to go. You just sit and give me a few minutes.”

  Stunned, Kerry had no choice but to do as he asked. So she sat and watched the cuteness of an early-morning Jesse as he made her breakfast.

  “One egg or two?” he asked.

  She blinked. He was so adorable with his bare feet, hair all askew and sleep still clouding his slightly puffy eyes.

  “One or two?”

  She’d take four of him right now. But that was just being greedy. But really one of him wouldn’t be enough. With the way he looked she’d wear the one out, so a backup was surely needed.

  “Four?” he asked.

  “Huh?” she replied.

  “You really want four eggs?”

  “What? Huh? No, I, um, one egg is fine.”

  He walked over to her. Came in close. So close that he was practically hovering on top of her. She inhaled. There was that scent. Damn, it was delicious. She’d gotten a hint of it from the body wash that was in the shower, but this was altogether different. This was that wash mixed with him, and together they made magic. He pulled back a bit and put his hand to her forehead. “You’re not getting sick, are you? I hope you didn’t catch a cold from rushing out after your shower last night.”

  Kerry caught hold of her senses and pushed his hand away. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I just didn’t catch what you were asking.”

  He frowned. “Well, you look a little off.”

  Now it was Kerry’s turn to frown. There was the Jesse she knew and didn’t love. Just the version
she needed to bring her back to earth.

  “I said I’m fine,” she said, pushing back from her chair and getting up. She went over to the sink. “Can I do something? I feel useless just sitting while you do all the work.”

  “You don’t have to do anything, but if sitting makes you uncomfortable, get your coffee and pull out some bread for toast. How about that?”

  “Fine,” she said in a tone she realized was probably a little too businesslike for the likes of this kitchen.

  He nodded, then went back toward the stove. Kerry let out a breath before going about making the coffee and fixing toast.

  In no time Jesse, after a few pushes of the microwave buttons and a short while in front of the stove, was putting a plate of egg, sausages and toast in front of her. The shocker was the side bowl of grits, smooth and creamy with butter and even some shredded cheese on top.

  “Wow, this is a real breakfast,” she said.

  Jesse sat across from her and grinned. “Were you expecting a fake one?”

  She took a bite of the over easy egg and mixed it with the grits. Damn, they didn’t even need any more salt or pepper. “No, I wasn’t expecting a fake breakfast, but I can admit I also wasn’t expecting this.”

  He mumbled a quick prayer under his breath, then started to eat. After a few bites, he stopped to catch his breath and look at her. “You know, I hope to surprise you and everyone in many ways in the upcoming weeks.”

  Kerry paused midchew on the sausage in her mouth and stared at him. Though his words were said lightly, almost flippantly, she still caught the underlying seriousness, mixed with a hint of desperation, in his tone.

  “I’m sorry, Jes,” she said, and meant it. “I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

  He grinned, turning the mood once again. “Just so you know, I can burn in more than one room of a house.”

  Kerry shook her head as her eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Trust, I don’t doubt you can.”

  He laughed, then sobered. “So I was thinking about the shop.”

  She nodded but kept chewing, then took a sip of her coffee and spoke. “Good. I’d be concerned if you weren’t.”

  He got up and went to the sideboard and picked up a tablet, tapping some buttons and then placing it next to her setting.

  She looked at him with confusion, but he took another bite of his breakfast and pushed his chin forward. “Look. I was playing around on Pinterest and looking up ideas for the shop. It may look like a lot, but it’s all things I think we can do to update the shop for not too much money.”

  Kerry frowned but couldn’t help being intrigued about what he was pinning, since this was Jesse and, honestly, it could be anything—from cakes as in literal to cakes as in asses. But she took another bite of the delicious food, then wiped her hands and picked up the tablet. She smiled. She liked how Jesse’s mind worked. The pictures he’d pinned were all modern but still had a hint of tradition. There were images of yarn stored in baker’s racks or apothecary cabinets, and there were knitting needles housed in painter’s cans and clay flowerpots. Each was unique and, he was right, not all that expensive. There were also some cool furniture pieces: chairs and chaises with woven seats and backs made to look handknit that were cool. Marrying some of these with a fresh coat of paint and rearranging the furniture could really update the shop, but would they be able to do it and would it be enough to create buzz and keep the shop afloat?

  She looked at him. “I like these ideas.” She grinned at one pin. “As a matter of fact, I have a couple of them on my inspiration board. But do you think we can do it?”

  He took the tablet from her and stared at it. “Not all of it. But some. I’ll get my brothers to help. At least Lucas and Noah while they’re here. Damian may give us trouble, but he’ll get on board.”

  Kerry looked at him.

  Jesse shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe he will. If he doesn’t, I can’t let it stop me.”

  Kerry smiled against the hint of skepticism that was gnawing at the lower part of her belly. “No, you can’t.”

  The meal was finished, thankfully less awkwardly than it had started, and Kerry got up to clear the plates, but once again Jesse stopped her. “You go on. I got this.”

  “No,” she protested. “I can finish up. It’s the least I can do for you letting me stay here.”

  His eyes grew serious. “Kerry, stop!”

  She stilled and looked at him with confusion. “The dishes are the least I can do.”

  He let out a long breath. “Stop acting like I did you some great favor when you’re here and already doing so much for us.”

  She nodded as warmth swirled up and over her body, blanketing her chest in momentary peace. “I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do, Jes,” she whispered out.

  But he seemed not to hear her and continued talking. “Besides, we’re like family, and family is there for one another.”

  The chill came over her at double the speed the warmth had.

  Family. He’d used the same word she had the night before. The word she’d regretted as soon as it was out of her mouth. She stared at him, searching his expression, but he was already picking up plates and going to the sink. “Yeah, like family,” she agreed. Though we’re not. Never have been. But she understood. Jesse needed family, and needed her to fill that space that was suddenly void. The one that gave him comfort and safety. But she knew she couldn’t do it. At least not for any real length of time. She’d be okay faking it for a while, but longer than that and she’d come out a version of herself that even she didn’t recognize.

  She cleared her throat. “Okay, fam—” she started, then stopped when the words felt ridiculous on her tongue. “Tell me where I can find an iron. This top has me looking like I’ve come out on the wrong end of a bad night, and it’s driving me crazy.”

  He looked at her like she had asked him where she could find the way to Mars, not an iron. Finally, he responded, “I think Mama Joy has an ironing board set up in her room—well, her old room. You want me to get it for you?”

  Dammit. Mama Joy’s room? Why did she go and ask? “No, you know what, I don’t really need it,” she said, putting up her hands. He put the plates in the sink and started to walk past her but casually took her hand.

  “Come on, Kerry. It’s just a room.”

  But it wasn’t just a room, she thought as he rushed to open the door, and together they both looked wide-eyed into the private space that was Mama Joy’s.

  And just as Jesse had said, there were an iron and ironing board ready and set up in the far corner by the old wardrobe.

  Her scent was still there, and the room was the same as it’d been before she tried to make her way to the hospital that Wednesday night, feeling unwell with chest pains. Little did she know she’d never make it back home after dying from a massive heart attack en route. Kerry took in the way the bed was haphazardly made, the sheets thrown up as if Mama Joy had known she should just leave but couldn’t quite walk out without some attempt at tidying. Even in her last moments she wanted things just so. Her eyes shifted and she caught sight of Mama Joy’s unfinished knitting in the basket by her bedside. The colorful remnants of yarns she recognized as years of old favorites of Mama Joy’s. There was petal upon colorful petal stitched together. She knew Mama Joy had planned to make a beautiful winged glory shawl. Now it would never be done. Kerry quickly averted her eyes, but not fast enough.

  She turned to Jesse. He didn’t look well. His tanned skin was quickly draining of color. Kerry shook her head and pushed him toward the door. “I’ve got it. I’m good now. Why don’t you go and finish up in the kitchen. I’ll meet you downstairs soon.” But he was already coming into the bedroom. Going to sit on the edge of the bed. As if on autopilot, his hand reached out and he fingered the pretty remnant petals.

  Dammit. Why did she go and ask for a stupid iron? “Jesse, are y
ou okay?”

  Though he nodded his head yes, she knew he wasn’t. How could he be? She didn’t know what to do.

  He let out a long and ragged breath and looked up at her. “This will never get done now, will it?” he said, referring to the petaled shawl. His eyes were full of water and desperation. Kerry was afraid she might break at any moment; the two of them falling apart wouldn’t do either of them any good.

  “What am I doing?” he said. “I mean, what was I even thinking assuming I could fill her shoes and take over the shop?”

  He blinked back tears that glistened in his eyes and threatened to spill over as he bent down and picked up one of Mama Joy’s well-worn slip-on sneakers. He tenderly ran his thumb over the laces, and a tear fell. Kerry choked back a sob, as it felt like her own tears would flow along with his, but she stuffed it back down when she heard his next words.

  “I’m such an idiot. I should have listened to Damian. It’s not too late, you know? He’s right—we can just sell and everyone can start over. It was foolish and selfish of me to think that I could do it. To think this highly of myself was ridiculous in the first place.”

  “What’s selfish is talking like this now. And don’t get me going on this thinking-highly talk. Didn’t you just tell me in the kitchen you weren’t letting anything stop you? Not even Damian?” She didn’t mean for her voice to come out as harshly as it did and didn’t know it had until his head snapped her way and his eyes narrowed. Kerry tried to soften the blow by sitting by his side and covering his hand with her own. Something else she hadn’t quite planned on. But it just felt like the thing to do at the time.

  Still, it distracted him enough to stop his tears and get him arguing, which was safer ground as far as she was concerned.

  “Can’t you tell bullshit when you hear it? And how am I being selfish by being honest? It’s more like I’m finally thinking practically.” He let out a sigh and looked at her, his eyes taking on their usual softness now, though she sensed a slight bit of that guarded thing he thought he did so well. “Look, I know originally I thought what I was doing was for the best. So much so that you thought it too.” He sighed once again and put down the shoe. “But I can’t have you put your life on hold like that. Not for me.” He stroked her hand, and the unexpected sizzle that zapped up her arm had Kerry instinctively pulling back. His tears, the shoe and the iron were immediately forgotten, fear of her own emotions replacing his.