Shoe Strings

by Christy Hayes

  He’d been fuming since wandering over to Lita’s porch the night before to extend an olive branch to Jesse when he’d made that outrageous comment and sent him scurrying away. He should have known making things right with him wouldn’t be simple.

  He slipped the deposit slip and checks out of his billfold and waited in line for the next available teller. The girl on the end must have been from the new family who’d just moved to town from Knoxville. Cal hoped he got to deposit his money with her instead of Molly Pearson. She and Sally Robinson were thick as thieves and she never let him forget he’d missed the boat as far as Sally was concerned.

  “Next,” Molly called. Hell. Luck just wasn’t on his side. He moved to Molly’s spot on the counter and watched her eyes twinkle. “Well, well, Mr. Bloodworth. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” She had a smudge of bright red lipstick on her teeth and it made her look like she’d taken a little sip of the last customer’s blood. “What can I do for you today?”

  “Just a deposit, Molly.” He didn’t encourage small talk, but always managed to get sucked in anyway. The woman loved to gossip.

  “Sure thing, hon. Oh, I don’t need that,” she said as he tried to pass his driver’s license across the counter. Of course she knew who he was, but rules were rules. What kind of operation were they running here anyway? “Say, I just got back from a late lunch and saw the strangest thing. Walked right past the tavern and happened to look in the window. Do you know who I saw, slumped against the bar tying on a good one?” She didn’t give him a chance to ponder a guess, but he never would have imagined the name that came out of her mouth. “Bryce Jenson, can you believe it? Patty Scoggins was having her smoke break outside as I passed. I don’t know why they don’t just let her smoke inside; it just drifts right back in the screen anyway.” She leaned down and spoke in a whisper loud enough for everyone in line to hear. “Patty said he’d been in there since she got there at eleven.” She shook her head and pushed the deposit slip across the counter, but didn’t lift her hand so he could take it. Clearly, she hadn’t finished gossiping yet. “I sure hope he hasn’t gone and followed in his daddy’s footsteps with the devil alcohol. You know his mama had to work two jobs while that no good drunk went about drinking himself to death. Bryce seems like such a nice boy.” She lifted her hand and he quickly grabbed the receipt. “Hey, speaking of nice boys, there’s your son.”

  Sure enough, when Cal turned around he saw Jesse, checks spread over the island counter and filling out his deposit slip. “Thanks, Molly. See you around.”

  He considered slipping out, but when Jesse lifted his head, he spotted Cal a few steps away and lifted his brows.

  “You really should fill the slip out before you come in,” Cal said. Hadn’t he been telling him that for years?

  “Didn’t have time.” Jesse scrawled his name at the bottom. He collected his checks and looked at Cal defiantly.

  If they were going to get past their argument, it was obvious he had to make the first move. “Molly just said she saw Bryce tying one on at the tavern. Said he’d been there since before eleven.” He checked his watch and confirmed the time. “What the hell do you think he’s doing drinking in the middle of the day for over four hours?”

  Jesse looked surprised and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Well, I guess I could head on over and see what’s going on.”

  Jesse looked at his watch. “I’ll go. I’ve got a few hours before…I’ve got a few hours. I’ll let you know if I find anything out.”

  “Thanks.” He had to guess Jesse was meeting with Lita later from the way he’d cut his explanation short. Damn it, he didn’t care if he and Lita saw one another; that hadn’t been the reason for their argument. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Jesse moved to get in line.

  As he got back in his car, he wondered if they’d ever be able to let the past die. He sure hoped they would.

  ***

  Jesse hadn’t been in the tavern for months, not since Jim Baxter’s bachelor party. He certainly hadn’t been inside before nine o’clock at night since probably…college. He’d forgotten how dark it got the moment you entered or just how embedded the cigarette smoke was in the dingy carpet and cloth seats. Who needed to smoke when you could just sniff the furniture?

  When his eyes adjusted, he saw Bryce slumped against the antique bar, his suit coat hung over the back of a barstool. He walked over and took the vacant seat beside him. Bryce’s head swung toward him in slow motion, his eyes red-rimmed, his pupils dilated. Yep, Molly was right. Bryce was wasted.

  “What’s up, buddy?” Jesse asked and motioned for the barkeep.

  He growled and took another swig of what looked and smelled like scotch.

  “I’ll have a draft,” Jesse told the bartender. As the song goes, it’s five o’clock somewhere. When he got his beer, he lifted it in Bryce’s direction. “Cheers.”

  Bryce glanced over, downed what was left of his drink. “I’m not in the mood for company.”

  “Me neither. Just came in to get a beer.”

  Bryce laughed. “If you’d wanted a beer, you’d have gone to the Den and gotten one for free. Kerri Ann would give you anything you asked for.”

  From the snide way he’d said her name, Jesse knew Kerri Ann had somehow caused Bryce to take a walk on the wild side. Just what he didn’t want to get in the middle of. “Oh, I don’t know. Seems to me you’re on the top of her list these days.”

  “I’ve taken my name off her list.” He motioned for another drink.

  Jesse needed to talk fast before Bryce was beyond help. “Oh, come on now. I know she’s just about the most stubborn woman on the planet, but if you two are going to be together, you’ve got to try and ride out the rough patches.”

  Bryce rested his head on his hand and looked at Jesse. He looked the same as he did as a kid, all long legs and arms, his hair hung haphazardly over his forehead. “That’s great advice from the man who’s never ridden out a rough patch. Things get tough and you’re the first one out the door.” He toasted Jesse with the fresh drink he’d just received.

  Jesse sat still in the seat and let the sting of Bryce’s words flow like poison through his veins. He was damn tired of being on the receiving end of everyone’s anger. He had half a mind to walk out and let Bryce drink himself to sleep, but whatever was going on wasn’t about him.

  “Look.” Bryce slapped his hand on the bar. “She’s all yours. She always has been and from now on, she always will be.”

  “You know, for a smart man, you’re being incredibly stupid. I may have married her, Bryce, but she’s always been yours.”

  “Ha.” He turned so quick in the chair he nearly tumbled out of it. He poked Jesse in the chest. “She’s been yours since we were kids.”

  “That’s bullshit. She may have been my girlfriend, but you’re the one she wanted. You just didn’t hang around long enough to find out.”

  “Oh please.” He boosted himself back into the chair and shook his head. “Just cause you don’t want her, don’t try to distort the past. I was there. I know what happened.”

  “Do you, Bryce?” He took a sip of beer and thought about what he was about to say. “You ever asked Kerri Ann about the day Ty was conceived?”

  His face contorted into an angry grimace. “Why the hell would I do that? I know how it happened.”

  “You ask her and we’ll see how much you know.”

  Bryce picked up his drink, brought the glass to his lips, and then slammed it down on the bar. “No, you brought it up, you tell me what happened.”

  “I think you should ask Kerri Ann.”

  “I’m not speaking to Kerri Ann, so if you think this makes some kind of difference, then you tell me.”

  Jesse took a deep breath and figured, even as wrecked as Bryce seemed to be, he just might have enough sense in him to listen. “It was a Friday, after school. I’d gone home to help Cal with something. You two were going downtown to get s
ome ice cream. About an hour later, she came barreling through the woods as if her butt was on fire and jumped me behind the old shed. Literally pulled off my clothes. I didn’t know what the hell had gotten into her, but at seventeen,” he shrugged, “I wasn’t going to argue. The minute we were done she started crying. She damn near hyperventilated.” He took a swallow of beer and thought about how young and stupid they’d been. “When I finally got her calmed down, she said she wanted to break up. She said she thought she was in love with you.”

  Jesse looked up at Bryce. His eyes were narrowed, his brow furrowed. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “If that were true, she’d have told me.”

  “I told her to. When she left, she said she was going to talk to you.”

  “She never did.”

  “We broke up, Bryce. We’d been heading that way for awhile. I always wondered why you two didn’t start going out, but I figured you were and just hadn’t let the cat out of the bag. Next thing I knew, she was pregnant and she said you and her hadn’t been together.”

  “Well…” Bryce shook his head, pushed his drink away. “That doesn’t change anything. She still doesn’t want to be with me.”

  Jesse finished his beer. “Look, I’ve got no idea what’s going on, but…whatever kept her from telling you all those years ago may be what’s keeping her from you now. You’ll never know until you ask her.”

  “I’m through with her.”

  Jesse squeezed his shoulder and stood up to leave. He looked at Patty and winked when she held up Bryce’s keys. “Then I guess you’ll never know.”

  Chapter 26

  The drive to Jesse’s didn’t take long. Just over a ridge of the mountain, against the backdrop of enormous trees and soaring views, sat his farmhouse nestled in a flat clearing, the lawn freshly mowed, the planters filled with yellow and purple flowers. Lita couldn’t have been more surprised by his home than if he’d driven her to a tent in the woods.

  “You getting out?” he asked when she sat in the passenger seat of the Scout and just stared.

  “This is where you live?”

  “Yeah.” He came over to her side of the car and took her hand. “Is there a problem?”

  “I…” She looked at him. His hair was tousled from the wind and his black sweater gave him a dangerous edge. But his house resembled one she’d seen on late night television. She half-expected to hear John Boy whisper goodnight over the rustling breeze. “You surprise me, Jesse. I keep trying to pin you down and you keep shifting on me.”

  “Disappointed?” He led her up the three steps to the covered front porch. It ran the whole length of the house and around one side. He had well-used rockers and a porch swing that hung in the corner with a pretty red cushion that matched the shutters on the clapboard house.

  “No, not even close.” She walked along the porch, leaned over the banister at the corner, and looked westward toward the setting sun. The trees, with their budding leaves and long trunks, swayed like lovers in the wind. Lita wanted to unbutton the simple cotton dress she’d purchased at the general store and let the cool evening air dance over her naked skin. Where, she had to wonder, had that impulse come from?

  “I like the dress.” Jesse came up behind her and wrapped his arms under the chunky sweater she’d worn over it. “Not your usual getup.”

  “I’m not in the mood for getups tonight.” She turned to face him, tried to memorize the curve of his cheek, the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the small scar across his temple. She didn’t want to forget any detail about him, wanted to be able to shut her eyes at any time during the day and summon his image in her mind, just as he stood now, a sly smile playing over his lips, mischief in his eyes.

  “That sounds like a challenge.” His smile faded. “Angelita, what’s wrong?” He pulled back and studied her. “You’re pale and…shaking.” His hands slid to her wrists where her pulse throbbed beneath his thumbs.

  She pulled him closer, drank in his scent. “Nothing, just a little cold. Hold me, would you?”

  He ran his hands up and down her back, soothing, melting her against him. Why did she have to meet him when her life was a mess and her heart so starved for affection? But it was more than affection she felt for him, more than wanting. They’d exposed the kernel of something in the time they’d shared. If only her father hadn’t wielded his puppet strings and caused her to forfeit her right to explore their relationship. She pulled back and tried to smile. “How about a tour?”

  “Sure.” He held her at arm’s length for a minute before letting her go. He had a way of looking at her that left her feeling exposed. “Are you sure you’re okay?” When she nodded, he held the door open and followed her inside.

  If the outside of the house hadn’t already astonished her, the inside would have knocked her off her feet. She’d never been in a place that so clearly spelled home. She heard it whispered in the creaking of the wide plank flooring, smelled it in the musty rugs and cinnamon-scented candles on the mantle, saw it in the rich tones of the wooden staircase and window moldings.

  “It’s beautiful.” She crossed her hands over her chest and turned around in the narrow entrance hall. Dark woods, splashes of deep red, gold, and chocolate in the rugs and pillows. Heavy window panels in the dining area and naked windows in the kitchen. Every room he led her through called to her to linger, slip off her shoes, and unwind. “Jesse,” she said as he wound her back through to the kitchen. “It’s so wonderful. I don’t how you keep surprising me.”

  He pulled a bottle of wine from the counter and retrieved two glasses. “The house took a lot of work; still does to keep it up. But I like it.”

  “It suits you. I never would have pictured you here, but it suits you perfectly.” She accepted the glass and felt tears sting her eyes. She didn’t want to give him up. The man she’d casually dismissed as a carefree loafer owned his own business, had raised a well-adjusted son, and owned a high maintenance home. Oh, and he made her toes curl with a look. “I half-expected you to rent a dive apartment or live in a trailer park.”

  “I didn’t start out this way, Angelita. Your first impression was pretty dead-on when I was your age.”

  “When you were my age you lived in Atlanta?”

  “Yes.” He pulled a tray of cheese from the refrigerator and opened a box of crackers. “I don’t even think my apartments are still standing. At least, I hope they’re not.”

  “I live next to the park.” She hadn’t thought of her condominium since she’d arrived. Funny, she thought. She’d always loved it, with its wide windows and funky decorations. She didn’t miss it a bit. “I loved the view until I came here. Now I can’t imagine all the streets and city noise.” She shrugged and, when Jesse turned to get more peppers from the sink, commandeered the knife and began cutting.

  “You don’t have to do that, Angelita.”

  “I know, but I like to cook.” It would keep her hands busy. Her fingers itched to touch him, the soft cashmere of his sweater, the wavy ends of his hair, the smooth skin of his cheek. It was the first time she’d seen him freshly shaved and she wanted to feel the gentle glide of soft skin over soft skin.

  They shared lingering looks over the sizzle of meat on his island stovetop, laughs over the bar where she perched to watch him cook. The meal was simple and prepared to perfection. There was something about a complicated man cooking a simple meal for a woman, a woman who intended to end their complications after this one last night together. She savored the food just as she savored each moment in his presence.

  The house was his grandmother’s, his mother’s mother, he explained over dinner. Jesse was a man who adored his mother and having lost her hung heavy on his shoulders. It was her death, Lita now knew, that drew him away from home as much as the dissolution of his marriage all those years ago.