Jesse's Girl

by Alison Stone

  “I don’t think so.” Henry stretched out a leg and turned the pedal counterclockwise until it stopped.

  “Exactly,” Jesse said, sensing Henry was warming up to the idea. “To start, you’ll want to take it easy on the brakes. Until you get used to it. But I bet you’ll be riding like a pro after a few tries.”

  Henry bit his bottom lip, a look of indecision evident on his face. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose, reminding Jesse that Mary Clare used to have freckles. They must have faded with age or lack of sun. Jesse glanced over at her, hoping she’d give her son a pep talk, but she didn’t look any more hopeful.

  “Why don’t you wait a few minutes? I’ll go get dressed first.” She plucked at her PJ bottoms.

  “Get dressed. I’ll take him for a spin.” Jesse locked gazes with Mary Clare. A cross between are you sure and I’ll kill you if he gets hurt glistened in her bright blue eyes. “He’ll be fine. Go.”

  “Stay on the sidewalk.” She took a step backward, her motions as hesitant as her willingness to give up control of her son.

  Jesse made a cross over his heart. “Go, we’re fine.”

  “Is his helmet secure?” Mary Clare asked.

  Jesse palmed the helmet on Henry’s head. It wasn’t going anywhere. “Feel okay?”

  Nodding, Henry lifted a leg and straddled the bike. Both his feet reached the ground. He definitely needed a bigger bike. He twisted on the seat. “Go in, Mom. I don’t want you to watch.”

  “Okay.” A flicker of disappointment flashed across Mary Clare’s face. “Looks like you’re all set.” She hedged a minute before leaving.

  “Ready?” Jesse held the back of the seat with one hand and the handlebar with the other.

  “Okay.” Henry wobbled a bit as he lifted both feet onto the pedals. “Last time I rode, I crashed a lot. My dad got mad.”

  Jesse leaned in close. “Here’s the deal. I’ve got the bike.” He tapped the metal loop on the back of the seat. “I won’t let go until I know you’re solid. And I promise I won’t get mad even if you do fall. You’ll never learn otherwise.”

  Henry nodded, uncertainly scrunching the freckles on his nose.

  “Want another tip?”

  Henry nodded again without saying a word. The look on his young friend’s face read I’m not sure I want to do this anymore.

  “I’m not giving you too many tips all up front, am I?”

  Henry shook his head. The helmet didn’t budge. Good thing.

  “Once you’re a pro at this, maybe we can convince your mom to let you ride a dirt bike.” Jesse winked conspiratorially. Henry needed some serious motivation.

  “Cool.” The smile flickered, then disappeared. “Mom will never let me.”

  “Let’s work on riding a bike first. Start pedaling.”

  Pushing down on the pedal, Henry teetered, then picked up his pace. Jesse started to jog, loosening his grip. Henry made it down the street to his cousins’ house, put on the brakes, then planted his feet on the concrete once the bike started to tip. “That was fun.” His tone suggested he had his doubts.

  “It was all you for the last few houses. On the way back, once you get your balance, I’m going to let go.”

  Henry twisted his mouth. He studied the straight shot of sidewalk between his cousins’ and grandma’s houses. “I’m not sure.”

  “I’ll jog next to you. I won’t let you fall.”

  “That’s what my dad said.”

  “Listen to me. I won’t let you down.”

  The screen door slammed nearby. Bill stepped onto the porch. “Hey, is that my nephew riding that snazzy bike?”

  “Hi, Uncle Bill. Jesse’s helping me.”

  Bill came down to the sidewalk, Zach a few steps behind. Bill shot Jesse a look he couldn’t quite read. “I remember that bike.” Bill gently stroked the handlebars. “We rode double around town on that thing until I finally saved up enough money from my paper route to buy my own.”

  Jesse laughed. “Henry’s doing awesome.”

  “Cool. I can’t wait till we can both ride around the block.” Zach picked at the loose piece of duct tape at the back of the seat.

  Henry nudged Zach’s hand away and pressed the tape back in place. “You’ll ruin it.”

  Unfazed, Zach spun around, leaned over and snatched the basketball from the lawn with both hands. He jogged to the driveway and began to dribble it. Bong-bong-bong.

  “Before long we’ll have you on a dirt bike. Right?” Jesse patted Henry on the back.

  Henry puffed out his chest. Jesse didn’t recognize the emblem on his golf shirt. “Do you think my mom will let me, Uncle Bill?”

  “I don’t know, buddy. We’ll have to work on her.”

  Henry got off the bike and swiped down the stand with a hard kick. After he was sure the bike wouldn’t tip, he held up his palms toward Zach. His cousin tossed him the ball. Henry stopped and lined the basketball up with the net, his pink tongue sticking out in concentration. Standing on the edge of the driveway, he made the shot and it bounced off the netless hoop. Henry chased after the ball, bounced it a few times, then passed it to Zach again.

  “Can you see my sister letting him ride a dirt bike?” Bill asked, keeping his voice low so Henry couldn’t hear.

  “Maybe she’ll surprise us.”

  “What’s going on anyway?” Bill asked. “You hanging out with Mary Clare? Teaching Henry how to ride a bike?” His friend gave him an exaggerated frown. “That’s not like you.”

  Jesse scratched his head, shaking off the uneasy feeling that everyone thought they knew who he was. Man, he was in his mid-thirties and he didn’t know exactly who he was. “I’m surprised you didn’t offer to teach your nephew how to ride a bike.”

  “Hey, that’s not exactly fair. My sister just got back into town. I’m sure it would have come up eventually, but”—he held up his hand to his yard littered with toys—“I’m not exactly a man of leisure.”

  At that, the screen door creaked. Amanda walked out with Billy tucked under her arm. She set him down on the grass. “Keep an eye on him, will ya? I have some things to do.”

  Billy toddled across the grass and made a beeline to the two boys playing basketball. Bill ran over and scooped him up, and set him on top of his shoulders in a preemptive effort to prevent the little guy from hollering that he hadn’t gotten his turn with the basketball. Bill galloped back over to Jesse with exaggerated motions, his namesake giggling and tapping out a rhythmic beat on his head and chanting, “Faster, faster, faster.”

  Bill lowered his voice. “My sister’s going through a nasty divorce. Don’t mess with her. You’re not exactly what she needs right now.”

  Jesse held up his hand, doing his best to hide the flash of anger and resentment at the accusation. “I’m only teaching her son how to ride a bike. I have no plans on getting involved with your sister.”

  Bill adjusted his hands on the little chunky legs dangling over his shoulders. “I’ve been your best friend for a long time. Don’t take it personally. You and Mary Clare—you’re not her type.” Bill took a few steps backward. The basketball rolled across the driveway and he batted it back toward the older boys with his foot.

  Jesse stood there speechless, not exactly sure how he’d walked into all that when he was just offering to help Henry ride a bike.

  “I have to take this little guy in, then run into work for a few hours.” Bill turned toward the door. “Catch ya later.”

  Jesse waved. He picked up the bike. He watched as Henry lined up a shot. The basketball teetered over the rim before going in. The cousins high-fived. “You ready to head back?” Jesse hollered.

  “Sure. See you later,” Henry said to his cousin.

  Henry pushed the bike in a big loop to turn it around. Straddling the bike, Henry centered himself on the sidewalk. Jesse grabbed the back of the seat.

  The kid glanced over his shoulder. “I want to try myself. If I feel wobbly, I’ll aim for the grass.”

 
; Jesse noted the determination in his eyes. “You can also put your feet down. You’re big enough.”

  “Okay. Once I learn how to ride this, I’ll be able to ride a dirt bike.”

  “Don’t say that in front of your mom, okay?” Jesse warned.

  Henry nodded, but all his focus seemed to be on the adventure ahead. Outstretched legs balanced him on the sidewalk, hands firmly wrapped around the handlebars, eyes straight ahead. “Here I go.” He pushed off with one foot, then the other, catching the pedal mid-cycle.

  “I’ll run alongside. Okay?” Jesse held the metal bar on the back of the seat.

  “I’m good.” Henry flicked him a quick glance, the bike wobbled, then he regained his balance. “You can let go.” This time Henry kept his eyes straight ahead, a study in concentration.

  “You’re doing great.” Jesse let go of the bike and jogged alongside, ready to grab on if necessary.

  Henry’s front tire skidded into the narrow crack between the sidewalk and grass. Jesse sucked in a breath, imagining the dressing down he’d get from Mary Clare if Henry didn’t arrive home safely sans scuffed knees, elbows, or chin.

  Elbows flailing, Henry bumped up onto the grass, then back down onto the sidewalk. He pumped his legs harder, picked up speed, and smoothed out his ride. Pride swelled in Jesse’s chest. You got it, kid. He jogged a good ten feet behind Henry. When Henry reached his grandmother’s house, he rode right up on the lawn and slowly fell over.

  Mary Clare ran down the porch steps. “Henry, you did it!”

  A huge smile lit his face. “Did you see that, Mom? I can ride a bike.” He untangled his legs from the bike and sprang up. “I can ride a bike.”

  “I saw that.” Her gaze drifted to the grass. “Looks like we have to work on stops and you’ll be all set.”

  “I forgot to use the brakes on the pedal and I panicked for a minute. Jesse told me to just put my feet down if I ran into a problem. I forgot that, too. But the grass was soft. I’m okay,” he said, obviously elated.

  Mary Clare righted the bike and rolled it over to Jesse’s truck. “Thank you for teaching him how to ride. I suppose I should get his bike out of storage.”

  “Now I can ride a dirt bike,” Henry said excitedly.

  “Whoa!” Mary Clare held up her hands. “You want to give me a heart attack?”

  “But I can ride a bike now.” Henry tugged at his helmet, then stopped and unsnapped the clasp from under his chin.

  “Riding a bike on a sidewalk and riding a dirt bike are two different things, sweetie.” She reached out and cupped his chin in her hands.

  He yanked away from her. “You treat me like a baby.” The joy drained from his face. He whipped his helmet onto the grass. He bolted toward the house, stomped his feet up the porch steps and disappeared inside.

  Chapter 6

  Embarrassment over her son’s meltdown washed over Mary Clare. It was one thing to have a fit, another thing altogether to do it in front of an audience. It was like having a neon sign over her head flashing “Bad Mom! Bad Mom!” She drew in a deep breath then turned to Jesse, grateful it was him, at least, and not the moms from the country club.

  “I’m really sorry. He’s not usually this dramatic. He’s actually a pretty mellow kid if you can believe it.” She jutted out her lip and blew her bangs off her forehead. Then slowly, despite her annoyance, she smiled. “I can’t believe it. You actually had him riding a bike.”

  “I did.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, seeming rather proud of himself.

  She met his gaze, struck, yet again, by how handsome he was. Sure, his hair was a little long and his clothes were a bit casual, but there was something about his easygoing nature that soothed her nerves. She quickly glanced down when she realized he was staring back. “Henry was thrilled until I burst his bubble about riding a dirt bike. Or not riding a dirt bike.” She exhaled sharply. “I tend to do that a lot lately. But…he’s my responsibility. If something happened to him, Chip would probably demand full custody.”

  He’d do it out of spite.

  Mary Clare had just gotten off the phone with him. It had been short, but definitely not sweet. He put her in a terrible funk and she had to hang up on him. He acted like their current financial situation was all her fault, probably because his financial deceit only came to light because she asked for a divorce. If it had been up to him, they’d still be married and she’d still be oblivious.

  “I should have asked you instead of assuming it would be okay for me to teach him how to ride,” Jesse said.

  Mary Clare dragged a hand down the length of her hair, damp from the shower, and sat down on the top step of the porch. She twisted her mouth into a wry expression. “If you had waited for me, I’m afraid he would have never learned. I’m a little too protective.”

  “You’ve been busy,” he said, giving her a graceful out. “What mom doesn’t want to protect her son?”

  “Yeah, well…” Mary Clare glanced behind her to make sure Henry wasn’t listening. “I really should get after Henry for running off in a huff, but I think I’ll let him cool down. I need to learn to chill some, too. The poor kid’s going to grow up afraid of everything.” Like his mom.

  Jesse leaned back on the railing. “He’s fine. You’re a great mom.”

  Elbows on her thighs, Mary Clare rested her chin on her clasped hands. “Henry’s desperate to do things other kids his age do, but between me and his father, he drew the short straw.”

  “I don’t know anything about his father, but I do know a little bit about you.” Jesse reached out and ran a strand of her hair through his fingers. The roots of her hair tingled and she struggled to sort the emotions clouding her judgment. “He’s lucky to have you.”

  She stared at Jesse for the briefest of moments before shifting her gaze to the grass, the lone dandelion, the crack splitting the concrete. Anything but Jesse’s eyes.

  “Lately I don’t feel like Henry’s very lucky.” She fisted her hands, her deep-seated hurt slowly solidifying into a knot of anger in her belly.

  Jesse slid in next to her and sat on the step, his thigh brushing hers. He scooted over a fraction to give her space. “His dad’s a good guy, right?”

  Mary Clare rubbed a hand across her forehead. It was going to be another muggy one. “I thought he was until I had to live with him.” She waved her hand, not wanting to get into all this. “Lately, he’s being an idiot. The money I thought I’d have to get set up just isn’t there.” She sighed heavily. “I don’t need to blab my sob story to you. You heard about it some the other night.”

  Jesse let his hands hang between his knees. “Some say I’m a pretty good listener.”

  She slipped her hand between the rails and plucked the dandelion from the flowerbed. “Perhaps, but I’m not much in the sharing mood.” Mary Clare scooted forward, planted her feet and stood. She tossed the dandelion and stared at its crumbled stem. “I was an idiot. I changed all my plans after I met him and look where it got me.” Her pulse roared in her ears. “Chip was my biggest mistake.”

  “Seems to me one great thing came from that relationship.” Jesse tipped his head toward the house where Henry was.

  Shame slammed into her. “Of course. Of course. I wouldn’t trade Henry for anything. I just meant that I gave up all my professional dreams for a guy. Chip was such a charmer. He convinced me to move in with him right after I got my master’s degree. He told me he’d make plenty of money. That I wouldn’t have to work. I never had a reason to get my teaching certificate.” According to Chip. “And for the first few years, everything was good. Then taking care of me felt a lot like controlling me.” They locked gazes and she quickly looked away, lowering her voice. “I have no idea how I let it happen.”

  He reached out and touched her hand, before she stepped out of reach.

  “How old are you?” Jesse’s calm voice grated across her already frayed nerves.

  “Three years younger than you and Bill. You know that.”
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  “You’re missing the point.” Jesse got to his feet and closed the distance between them. A shadow darkened his jawline. “You’re young. Are you ready to curl up and give up on your dreams?”

  Aim. Shoot. Bull’s-eye. Her thoughts swirled and she blinked slowly until her emotions were in check and it was safe to speak without breaking down. “I’ve been out of it, being a stay-at-home mom, and all. I thought my half of the money from the house, plus alimony, would buy me time to figure it out.”

  “The time frame has changed, but you’ve got this.” He patted the railing. “You were one of the smartest people I knew growing up. You can do anything.”

  “What do you know?” She hated that she sounded sorry for herself.

  “You mean, because I’m a mechanic at my dad’s garage?” His tone was oddly even, amused almost.

  “I didn’t…I mean, I’m just…” All her words got tangled in her brain.

  “Listen, I have to scoot. Henry can hold on to the bike for now. Tell him I thought he did a great job.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks again,” Mary Clare said, feeling even more foolish now that she had overreacted. And here she had been ready to scold Henry for doing the same thing.

  Jesse waved, climbed into his truck and slammed the door. She watched as he pulled out of the driveway.

  The hinges on the screen door creaked. Mary Clare’s mother stared toward the driveway, her brow set as if she was sharpening a zinger sure to snap Mary Clare’s thin thread of control.

  “Jesse took off in a hurry and Henry’s in there sulking. Why does everyone around here have their knickers twisted in a bunch?”

  Mary Clare stood and turned to face her mother. “I guess we’re all having a rough start to our summer.”

  Her mother squared her shoulders. “There’s no sense sulking when there’s work to be done.”

  Leave it to her mother to give her a pep talk. Mary Clare rolled her eyes behind her mom’s back, feeling very much like a resentful teenager.

  She had to dig her way out of the mess she created with her life or she’d have a lot more bad days in the future.