Jesse set his coffee mug on the table so hard it slopped over the edge. He didn’t even notice. “She has a child?”
Sophie closed her eyes. Damn her big mouth. What seemed like help now seemed like a betrayal. “I…shouldn’t have said anything.”
He grabbed her arm, then loosened his grip when she eyed him warily. “Sophie, please. You have to tell me.”
“I can’t…it’s not my place.”
“You’re halfway there. If you stop now, I’ll just ask Angelita and you know she’ll be pissed.”
Damn, he did have her figured out. “Jesse, if she wanted you to know, she’d have told you herself.”
“She would have—eventually. Tell me,” he begged. “I care about her. Please.”
It was the way he said it, his hand on her sleeve, his heart on his. “Shit, she’s going to kill me.”
“Tell me.”
“I was working in an upscale shoe boutique at the mall. She hobbled in with her shoe, we started talking. She’d already put in eight hours waitressing and was working her way around the mall with her mommy flops.” She smiled at the memory. “They were awesome. My manager wasn’t there, so I told her to come back later in the week when she’d be around, told her I’d talk to her about the flops.”
She eyed the door, heard the water still running. “She left a shoe and her card, but she never came back. I talked to my manager, showed her the prototype, and she was ready to order. When Lita didn’t show up, I called her number and left a message. Called again a few days later. Nothing. By this time, my manager was hounding me, ‘Have you called the girl? Have you talked to the girl?” Sophie thought of her long ago boss, her nasally New Jersey accent and overbearing perfume. “So I went to the restaurant where she said she worked, this dive in Midtown. Lady there told me she’d gone into labor and had a stillborn. She said Lita would be back the next week.”
“Fuck.” He looked like he’d been kicked in the gut.
“Yeah, I felt bad. Really bad. She was so young and so excited about the baby. It was a boy. She’d already named him Robert.” She closed her eyes, wondered what she would do if her baby didn’t live. It was more than she could stand to think about in the first few weeks of pregnancy. “Anyway, I thought sooner or later she’d return my call or come back to the store, but when another week went by and I hadn’t heard from her, I went back to the restaurant. She was working when I came in. She looked…like a shell, like someone had come along and turned her light right off.”
Sophie looked up and saw Jesse listening raptly, his hands rubbing his knees. “She gave me some coffee and refused to sit down and talk even when there wasn’t anyone else in the restaurant. I explained that my boss wanted to place an order for her shoes and she said she’d had several calls, but she wasn’t making shoes anymore. I asked her if it was because of the baby and...well, I could almost hear the lock on her heart click shut. I just kept coming back to see her. I don’t know what it was—that she was wasting this incredible opportunity or that I’d never seen anyone so sad. I figured she could use a friend. I think I just pestered her enough to make her agree, just to shut me up. It took her years to come out of her shell, to be happy. She still has a hard time around babies.”
“What about the baby’s father?” he asked. “Was she married?”
The creaking pipes indicated the water had stopped and Lita’s shower had ended. Sophie sighed. She’d already said too much. “That’s for her to tell.”
Chapter 33
Jesse sat on the couch, shook Sophie’s hand when she got up to leave, and watched her walk quietly out the door. He couldn’t move, couldn’t put his scattered thoughts together, could barely breathe. Still born. He couldn’t imagine what she’d been through or what it must have taken to overcome that kind of loss, no matter the circumstances. She must have been so alone, so lost…
The bedroom door opened and she emerged in a thick white robe, her cheeks rosy from the shower, her skin glowing with health. “Did Sophie leave?”
He stood up, walked to her, and ran his hands through her damp hair. Without a word, he kissed her, poured his soul into the kiss, and tried to make up for all he hurt she’d been through.
She pulled back. In her eyes he could see she was a little stunned by his serious expression, a little aroused. “Jesse?”
He couldn’t answer with words; he was afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he started talking, so he backed her into the bedroom and loved her with everything he had. He healed her with his kiss, his touch, his heart. He’d never loved a woman more or given himself to someone so completely.
She settled into the crook of his arm, laid her head on his chest, and sighed contentedly. He could feel her heartbeat against his skin, feel the heat of their bodies. He sat up on one elbow and looked down into her eyes, so soft, so full of affection.
“Angelita,” he said. “Tell me about the baby.”
Her breath caught in her throat and the color drained from her face. She pushed away from him and flung herself from the bed. “It sounds like I don’t have to.” She jammed her arms into the robe and cinched the tie around her waist so hard he thought she might have drawn blood. But if blood were to be drawn, she wanted his, he could see by the look on her face.
“Tell me about what happened to you when the baby died.”
He watched her face crumble, literally sink before she pulled herself back in. When she spoke, there was an icy edge, a cool quietness he’d never heard her use before. “Get out.”
“No. I can’t, Angelita. Don’t you see that?” He knew he had to push her, despite her pleas. It was the only way she’d let him in.
“I don’t want you here. I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”
He put his jeans on and followed her to the den where she stood, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her stare frigid, her mouth tight in a stubborn line. “Please go.”
If she wanted anger, he’d give her anger. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to hit rock bottom? You think my life’s been a friggin’ picnic?” He moved to stand in front of her, forced her to look up at him. “I had what you lost and, by the grace of God, I still do. But I didn’t want it—back then. When Kerri Ann told me she was pregnant, I thought it was the end of my life. All I could think about was me—how my life would change, how my dreams were dead. It never occurred to me that there’d be a baby, a little life we’d created. Even when he was here and we were married, I still didn’t want it. I didn’t want to be eighteen, nineteen, twenty years old going to school at night and working all day long to support a wife and kid. I didn’t want to be married, I didn’t want to be a father. I wanted to be single, successful, and living the life I’d dreamed about living.” He ticked the points off on his fingers, watched the anger grow more pronounced on her face, red with fury.
“The only thing I saw as holding me back,” he continued, “were the two people who loved me enough to let me go. And I went—I didn’t give anyone a chance to change their mind. It took me three years to realize they hadn’t held me back, but propped me up and gave my life more value than it could ever have without them. So I came back on my own and begged for Kerri Ann’s friendship and my son’s love and, as you know, they both let me have them back without question, without thought, without hesitation.” He reached out for her arm and she jerked away. He grabbed her hand and held tight.
“I took what you lost and threw it away for awhile and thank God I got it back. Thank God. So I want you to tell me what it was like for you when you lost your baby. Your lowest moment.”
“I don’t want your pity.” She tried to rip her hand free. He held tight.
“I don’t pity you. I want to know you, really know you.”
“By making me relive the most painful time of my life?”
He loosened his grip when she struggled against him, watched her pace to the window and look down at the street. “Yes, if that’ll help me understand you. If that’ll let yo
u realize I’m not going to run away if things get messy or complicated or real. I’m done running, Angelita. Life’s about living, not about hiding.” He walked to her, put his hands on her shoulders, felt them tremble through the thick material. “Tell me about your worst. The rest will be so much easier after that. Let it all out, Angelita, and we’ll deal with it together. You won’t be alone this time.”
***
Lita stood at the window, saw the heavy leaves from the magnolia tree shimmy in the light breeze, felt the heat of Jesse’s hands on her shoulders, the heat from her anger and pain festering deep inside. She never thought he’d do this to her, force her to feel the pain again. It remained so fresh, just under the surface, so easily tapped. It could put her under again. “If you care about me at all, you wouldn’t ask me to talk about this. It’s too much.”
“I more than care about you, Angelita.” He turned her around, forced her to look up at him with firm pressure on her chin. “I’m in love with you.”
She felt the sting of tears on her face, hot and thick, tasted the salt in her mouth. “Don’t say that.”
“Why?”
She tried to turn back to the window, couldn’t look at him and say what she knew to be true in her heart. He grabbed her shoulders so she couldn’t move. “No one has ever loved me.” She wiped her face with the sleeve of her robe. “You may think you do now, but you won’t for long, trust me.”
“Now that’s just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
She shouldered past him, grabbed a paper napkin from the kitchen counter, and blew her nose. She knew she had to explain it all to him, if only to save him later pain. “I was seventeen when I got pregnant. I’d been dating the son of one of my father’s associates. It was the first time I’d ever been of any use to him.” She remembered how he’d encouraged the relationship, told her not to deny him anything. “When I found out I was pregnant, my father was furious and the associate’s son, he said we’d never been together.” She looked up at Jesse for the first time. “I’d never been with anyone else. My father believed him and threw me out of the house.”
Suddenly exhausted, she sank into the couch, clutched her knees to her chest and, without realizing it, she began to rock. “I stayed with our housekeeper’s family for a few months until I could get an apartment of my own, worked as a waitress and started making shoes.” It felt like there was a rock on her chest, a big boulder that would crush her if she didn’t get it off. “My water broke at work, three weeks before my due date. I was so scared. I wasn’t ready yet; I hadn’t packed a suitcase or made arrangements to be off work…” She swiped her nose and struggled against the sob she felt bubbling up. “He was so beautiful. Had a head full of black hair, ten perfect fingers and toes. He never took a breath.” The dam broke. Hard, wracking sobs pulsed through every nerve of her body, singeing a path to a place she’d determined never to go again. She felt Jesse’s arms around her and didn’t have the energy or wherewithal to push him away. Sorrow, so long buried, felt like a presence in the room.
She didn’t know how long she cried, didn’t realize she clutched at Jesse, didn’t know his arms held her tight. She didn’t realize telling the story would feel like living it all over again and that, when it was over, she’d feel hollowed out.
She first registered Jesse’s soft murmurs when she came back into the present, felt his hands on her back moving gently up and down, tasted her tears on his chest. He’d asked for her worst and, by God, he’d gotten it. If she hadn’t been so exhausted, she’d have been mortally embarrassed. She eased back slowly, felt the gentle give of his arms. He didn’t let go completely and the look he gave her screamed of sympathy. “I need a tissue.” She felt unsure as to whether her legs would support her and watched as he rushed to bring the box within reach. She blew her nose twice and then sat back into the couch. “I’m sorry. I think I’m done now.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize for your feelings.” He sat down on the couch, thankfully giving her some room to breathe and try to piece together her tattered emotions. “I hope you don’t misunderstand when I say I’m sorry for what you went through, that you went through it alone. It makes everything you’ve done with your life since even more impressive.”
“I wasn’t trying to impress you, Jesse.”
“You never have,” he said with a sideways grin. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”
Her cried out eyes filled again. “You’re a glutton for punishment.”
“Yeah.” He wiped the tear from her cheek. “So what do we do now?”
She had to be honest. The worst was out and he had to understand the rest. “You go back home, I go back to work, and we remember this time together as…” Everything, she wanted to say. Absolutely everything. “A really wonderful experience.”
The tender look on his face vanished, replaced with what? She couldn’t tell if he was angry, sad, or just disappointed. His words cleared it right up. “You’re giving up on us, aren’t you?” He shot up from the couch, paced away, only to turn back around to face her again. “You’re afraid. You’re scared to death I’m not sincere, that I’m going to bolt or stop loving you.” He shook his head and waited for an explanation.
If he hadn’t been right, his words wouldn’t have stung so much. “Jesse, you said yourself you want to fill your house with children. Every bedroom, you said.” She blew her nose again, stood up on shaky legs. “I can’t give you children. I won’t ever go through that again. It’s not fair to ask you to stay with me, have a relationship with me when it’s destined to end.”
“Angelita, just because you had one bad experience—”
“One bad experience?” She held up her palms. “Jesse, my baby died! It almost crushed me. I didn’t care if I lived or died and it took years to feel happy again. I wouldn’t survive another loss.”
“Did the doctor tell you what happened? Did he say it might happen again?”
She turned away, tried to tamp down her anger. They were just questions and she could answer them without feeling like he was nailing daggers in her flesh. “The cord wrapped around his neck. They said it was a fluke.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder, rubbing, soothing, felt it slip under the collar of the robe and touch the bare skin of her neck. His hands, strong, calloused, steadily worked the tension from her knotted muscles. “If we tried again, I would be there with you. We would see specialists, constantly monitor your progress…” She turned and tried to make him stop talking. He wouldn’t be deterred. “And if you couldn’t do it, we’d adopt.”
“Jesse…” Something inside of her fluttered, like little angel wings of hope, but she couldn’t give it flight. “This is crazy. You live in North Carolina, I live here. You have your business, I have mine. It would never work.”
“You worked the whole time you were away. Bryce said you e-mailed your designs to Sophie and every time I saw you, you had that sketch pad in your bag.”
“There’s more to my job than designing.” She hated the other parts, but that was beside the point. “And I can’t abandon Sophie, especially now.’
“What do you mean, especially now?”
“I told you she’s pregnant.” For the first time, she experienced the sting of what that would mean, watching her best friend glow with health, feel her child move inside of her womb, grow and give life to something that would live and thrive.
Jesse must have seen her thoughts on her face. She’d always been told she wore it all like a mirror. “Baby,” he said and the tenderness in his voice had her wanting to walk into his arms. “We can have it all, we just have to work it out, that’s all.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing worth having ever is.” He ran his hands over his face. He looked as wrung out as she felt. She hadn’t even told him she loved him and he talked of children and a life together. She couldn’t tell him what was in her heart; he’d never let her go.
“Jesse, I can’t
let you do this.”
Shoe Strings Page 31
