"That’s why it’s funny. I was looking…doesn’t matter. Besides, you wanted that car when you were seventeen. Not many people actually get to own their dream car."
"You mean…you don't own a purple Beetle?" he taunts as I climb in. I can’t believe he remembered my favorite color, let alone my old dream car. “Besides, this isn’t just any Mustang, sweets. This is a Shelby GT500, the best. She’s my baby.” He grins wickedly, running his hands over the body work like it’s a work of art. I grin too, not in appreciation of the car but because of his endearment, ‘sweets’. I haven’t heard the expression in years, and yet it still has the same swooning effect on me. It also fills me with a little concern. The lines are becoming more and more blurred between the ‘us’ then and the ‘us’ now.
The Mustang is huge, and beautiful. Its long lines are slick, yet muscular and I can appreciate it despite knowing nothing of cars. The only reason I know that this is a Mustang is because Jesse used to talk incessantly about them. Although initially surprised, examining the car, it suits him perfectly. It has to be the most masculine ride I have ever seen. It exudes sexiness.
Jesse walks around the enormous black hood, I say walk, but he’s practically strutting. He sits in the driver’s seat beside me and he can’t deny the pride that he feels for his “baby”. Not when the evidence dances delightfully across his face.
The drive to the beach takes about twenty minutes and most of it is spent quarrelling playfully over what music to listen to. Teasing each other like this feels all too natural, as if no time has passed, as if there are no issues between us. But, there has and there is. I’ve spent the last ten years trying to move forward and get over Jesse, only to find myself right back where I shouldn’t be, in the palm of his hands.
I have to say something to him, now. I’m falling too far, too fast. Today has been amazing, and I feel actual physical pain at jeopardizing the rest of our time together, but I can't fall any further. Not if he isn't planning on sticking around.
Hand in hand, we leave the car behind and walk down towards the beach. Jesse seems so happy, smiling sweetly as he traces his thumb over my knuckles. I wonder if it’s a conscious effort or whether it’s out of habit. With each circle he draws against my skin I can feel my courage diminishing. It’s now or never.
"Jesse, wait." I stop on the sidewalk, unable to walk any further under the pretence that everything is okay.
"What is it?" He stops and stands in front of me, holding both of my hands.
"What are we doing?"
"Well, I thought we were going to the beach." He smiles, cockily, unleashing those dimples like a defensive attack against where he must sense the conversation is heading. I avert my eyes, knowing just how easy it is to be side-tracked by his smile.
"No, I mean us. What are we doing? I haven't seen you in ten years and all of a sudden we’re back to teasing and holding hands and making out and going for walks on the beach?" The lump in my throat threatens, but I work hard to fight back against my body’s betrayal. Jesse let's go of my hands, holding the tops of my arms instead. He begins to stroke the length of them, as if comforting me for what he’s about to say.
“Aren’t you having a good time?”
“Yes, of course I am. That’s not the issue.”
“Then what’s the issue? You’re having fun. I’m having the most fun I’ve had in a very long time. What else do you want?”
I sigh, and push him gently away. “Answers.”
Shaking his head, he steps back. He glances at me for a second before looking back to meet my gaze. No doubt catching the hurt in my eyes, he steps to me again, taking my hands.
"Mickey, I get it. There are a million things I need to say to you, to explain to you. I owe you that. But," he sighs loudly. "You’ve been back in my life for just one night. I want to enjoy us again for a little bit longer, no time wasting,” he smiles, hopefully, “and then we can talk."
I understand more than he could know. I’ve been putting off having ‘the talk’ since I locked eyes with him last night, fooling myself into believing that it doesn’t matter right now, that it can wait. But, it’s important for me to have answers. I was so deeply affected by Jesse’s leaving that it’s influenced my entire life and the decisions within it. I owe it to myself to speak out. I almost wish things hadn’t been so smooth today; it would be much easier to talk about the rough. It’s easy to forget how sad you once were when you’re now so happy.
“Jesse, I want to enjoy being with you too, but I can’t play happy families when I should be getting the answers that I’ve wanted for years. If this is the only chance that I’m going to get to talk to you then I need to take advantage of that.”
Tense hands fall to my waist as Jesse pulls me closer to him. “Why would this be the last chance to talk to me?” he asks, but I shake my head. Unable to speak without highlighting the hurt I’m feeling. The lump in my throat is swelling and my eyes are about to glaze over with tears, but I fight it all so I won’t look weak. “Sweets, why taint the short time that we have today when we have so many tomorrows?”
I shake my head, disbelieving. Finding my voice, I whisper, "But if you leave…” He stops me mid sentence, leaning down to look deep into my eyes. His hands move to either side of my face, literally holding my gaze.
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere.” He stresses the importance of each word. “Believe me, okay?"
There’s a big part of me that wants to say no. How can I possibly believe him? To believe him will only make it harder when he does leave again. It's easier to be prepared for the inevitable. However, that part stays quiet. The hopelessly in love part of me wraps my arms around his waist, nuzzles my head into his chest and lies. “Okay,” I sigh, and we walk hand in hand onto the beach.
The sky is completely clear and if it wasn't for the biting breeze, it would be a lovely day. The wind is harsh, generating small waves that dance along the edge of the water. We’ve walked and talked our way down a third of the beach and I’m glad for my thick cardigan to shield my skin from the intensity of the cold. Jesse on the other hand, looks freezing. He’s wearing khaki’s and a white, slim fit t-shirt. One hand is gripping mine tightly and the other is in his pants pocket. I can feel tension radiating throughout his body, and for once I don't think it has anything to do with me.
"Are you cold?"
"No, I'm fine," he says through clenched teeth.
"Seriously? You're shaking, Jesse."
"I'll be fine." He looks away trying to mask his discomfort.
"Come on, let's just head back to the car."
"No! I don't want you to go yet," he snaps stubbornly.
"I will still be with you in the car. In the warm..."
"Mickey, I'm fine," he lies.
"Ok, well you stay here, not being cold. I’m hungry so I'm going to that cafe we saw.”
“Mickey…”
“I'll save you some warm, delicious coffee for when you’re finished with your walk." I let go of his hand and smiling innocently at him I walk backwards up the beach.
"Well, that does sound tempting," he mumbles and starts walking slowly with me.
"No, no, you stay here and enjoy the weather," I tease, holding a hand up to stop him.
"I'd rather enjoy you," he smirks and chases after me. I run away but it's pointless. He catches up with me and I’m caught in a big bear hug. Kisses land tenderly on my head and I want to bury my lips against his, but he’s freezing, so I figure the sooner we get inside the better. We walk back up the beach with our arms wrapped round each other while I secretly try to drape my cardigan around him.
The cafe is warm and inviting. It’s decorated with blues, whites and reds and adorned with nautical furnishings, typical of so many places along New England's coast. Everything about the place is quaint and delicate, even down to the little old lady working behind the counter. We’re one of two couples in here. Everyone else seems to have been put off going to the beach by the wind. Although we did s
ee a couple of people flying kites.
We order coffee and sandwiches and sit on high stools at the bar. We can barely keep our hands off each other, only parting to eat. If it’s not our fingers entwined it’s our tongues. I feel so relaxed. I haven't thought negatively since we left the car and it’s allowed me to fully embrace this time with Jesse.
Little old lady keeps looking over and smiling. I assume it's to see if we’ve finished with our plates, but when she potters over she stops directly in front of us.
"What's the secret?" she asks, her eyes twinkling wickedly.
"Sorry?" Jesse replies.
"Your secret."
"I don't know what you mean.”
“You haven’t been able to keep your hands, eyes or darn lips off of each other.”
Jesse smiles wickedly at me, before she manages to embarrass him. And me.
“How long have you two been married?" she continues, obliviously.
"Erm, we’ve known each other since high school," I interject. I don't want to correct her when she means no harm and she doesn't need to know our situation.
"And you’re still so smitten.” She giggles, warmly. “Good luck to ya’. Your love is potent, dears, enviable. You should bottle it and sell it. You’d be rich." Jesse sniggers at her parting words and I can only assume why.
"What's not to love about this woman?" Jesse answers, looking at me and smiling his shy smile. His eyes are alight with hidden humor and I sense he’s just as embarrassed as me, but he’s able to hide it so much better.
Little old lady leaves us in an air of humor as she mutters something about a lovely couple.
"Sorry, I didn't know what to say," I explain. I reach out for Jesse's hand and he brings it to his lips before kissing my knuckles.
"It's fine. I liked being married to you for a little bit, Mrs. Jenner.”
I chuckle before sounding the name out. "Mrs. Jesse Jenner."
He shakes his head wistfully, amused by something. "It’s weird being called that again."
"What? Mrs. Jesse?" I tease.
"Har har. No...Jesse. I haven’t gone by that name since I left Starling." He continues to sip on his coffee completely unfazed by the startling information he has just relayed.
"So, what does everybody call you?"
“I changed my name to my middle name.”
“Lee?” My brow knits together and my mouth falls open, failing to hide my astonishment. I try to relax and act like this isn't a big deal, but it clearly is.
"Yeah, or Mr. Jenner," he tries to joke, but his wariness is obvious as he observes my reaction.
"Right."
"You okay?"
"I don’t know." I frown and in turn see his smile fall. “Do you want me to call you Lee?”
“Of course not, I’d hate it if you did. I’ll always be Jesse to you.” He reaches his hand up to run his thumb along my lower lip. Leaning in closer, his intentions are clear. I pull away before I succumb to his kiss.
“Why did you change it then?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intend.
Looking perplexed at my coldness, he sits back in his chair. “Because I needed a fresh start.”
“From me?”
Hurt thunders in his stormy eyes and he shakes his head adamantly. “No, from me. I guess I wanted to leave who I was behind and be someone different.”
“Who you was?” I scoff. “You was my boyfriend. Is that person gone along with the name?”
“No, Mickey…I’m still…” Jesse shakes his head and looks away, seemingly searching for words. Little old lady innocently interrupts by clearing our plates. Thankfully, she doesn’t mention the sudden change in atmosphere. Although, she’s probably oblivious to the difference as Jesse still cups my hands in his. She shuffles away, still smiling.
“I thought we weren’t going to do this right now,” he mutters, lowering both his tone and eyes. I shrug in resignation. He can have his way and we’ll talk another time. Or so he says. I mentally add more questions to the list of things to discuss.
"I really need to be getting back," I sigh, releasing his hand as I stand up. He sighs responsively and stands, taking my hand again.
"Okay, Cinders," he teases, trying to encourage a smile but failing. We leave in silence.
Sitting in his car, he hesitates starting the ignition and then stops what he’s doing altogether. He looks up, disappointedly, I think.
"I’d offer to drive you back, but…I'm not sure I'm ready for Starling just yet," he mutters, studying the dashboard and refusing to make eye contact with me.
“Oh, okay.” I don't know what to say. I guess I shouldn't have expected him to take me home. Starling is in the opposite direction to where he needs to be. He lives in New York now, so that will take him almost three hours to get back and that's without taking me home first.
"Sorry."
"No, it’s fine. I'll get the train," I reply, not looking at him either. The awkwardness is impossible to ignore. What a shitty way to end our time together.
"No, I'll call you a cab when we get back to the hotel." Crap, that's going to cost me.
The journey towards our impending goodbye is a far cry from the cheerful drive we enjoyed just a few hours earlier. No music fills the car, neither does the silly arguing that accompanied it. The mood has considerably darkened.
My mind is tangled with even more questions in light of this new information. He changed his name, or at least chose a different name to go by. Nobody called him Lee in Starling. I suppose that's the point. He wanted a new life, and this little change helped to insure it. I recall all of the times that I searched for Jesse Jenner in phonebooks and over the internet. No wonder I could never find anything; he didn’t want anything to be found. He acted so perplexed by my reaction, as if he didn’t think it was a big deal. But, he doesn’t get it. To me, it just confirms how desperately he wanted to be someone other than the Jesse that I knew. My Jesse.
On top of that, I don't know when I will see him again. He says he's not going anywhere, but he’s just said that he can't go back to Starling yet, so where does that leave us? As I try to work it all out, I can’t imagine a scenario where I get to keep him in my life. We could perhaps keep it casual. I’m in New York increasingly with work so we could catch up when I’m there. My heart constricts at the very idea, that wouldn't be enough. The more I see him the more I’ll want to be with him indefinitely.
It’s impossible.
My bag has been collected from Jesse’s hotel suite and a taxi has been ordered. We’re standing outside in the parking lot, our hands to ourselves and our attention elsewhere. To see us now you’d never think there was anything between us. We couldn’t be further apart. I don't know why when all I want to do is cling to him and soak up every last bit of his brilliance, regardless of our uncertain future.
Jesse looks up from the concrete floor and stares at me, exploring my face with his bold blues and making me feel overly self-conscious. He’s tentative as he steps closer.
"What?” I ask, fiddling with my bangs, worrying that my hair has been battered so much from the wind that I’m actually sporting an afro. Reaching into his back pocket he pulls out his wallet, finds a small grey business card and hands it to me.
"Here's my work number, my assistants number, my home number and my cell. There’s my email address on the back too.” The latter two numbers have been added in pen, I guess he doesn’t give them out very often. I smile, knowing that he thought about it in advance. He pulls a slip of paper from his wallet and continues, “Here’s my home address for when you’re next in New York."
I take them from him and immediately put them in the zip compartment of my purse, terrified of losing the precious information. Inwardly, I laugh at the irony of now being able to reach Jesse in every conceivable way when I’ve spent the last ten years with nothing. Not even the right name.
"Do you want to call my cell so I have your number?"
"I have a business card too, ya' know," I say,
giving him a poke to the chest in mock annoyance. I take a purple card from my purse and slot it into the front pocket of his pants. When he smiles warmly I feel a little apprehension leave us both. Now that we’ve established options to keep in touch our goodbye seems a little less daunting.
Only a little.
He takes my hands and pulls me near to him, finally allowing me the closeness that I’ve been craving. Just as our arms lock around each other the taxi cab pulls up next to us and lowers the window.
"Taxi for Ms. Cole?" asks the driver.
"Yes, erm, two minutes please," Jesse answers, frustrated, I think. The driver closes his window and waits impatiently, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
"You'll let me know when you get home safe, right?" Jesse asks as he slides my bag onto the back seat.
"Yeah," I say, fighting that damn lump in my throat again. “Wait.” Suddenly unsure where my phone is I reach over into the back of the cab and rummage through my bag, sighing with relief when I find it.
I turn back to Jesse, finding him stood by the driver's window. Fighting the feeling that this is a final goodbye I pray silently that he will be true to his word that he isn't going anywhere. His fingers lift my chin so that my eyes reach his and he kisses me with such tenderness that I almost cry.
"I'll speak to you later, okay?" he says, softly.
"Okay."
“I’ve had such a great time, sweets.” His voice is gentle against my ear, and then he pulls away to kiss my cheek. I’m not certain what his words mean, but it sure sounds like a goodbye.
“Jesse…” My mouth is covered with his own before I can ask, and even with its brevity, the kiss is enough to silence me. I sigh, defeated, and slink into the cab. The car pulls away and I watch Jesse grow smaller in the distance, all the while fighting the belief that this is the second time I have lost him.
Chapter 9
The light is beginning to turn a dusky pink in the endless sky that surrounds my parent’s picturesque house. As the taxi driver pulls up to the bottom of the steps he whistles in appreciation. This is the first time I’ve heard more than a breath escape his mouth for the entire drive and I’m glad. Through the silence I’ve managed to revisit the events from the last twenty-four hours and explore what they mean for me and Jesse. After an intense mental workout I’m still none the wiser.
Forget Me Not Page 7
