by John Herrick
Indicators that, perhaps, he had changed.
Jesse admired the beauty of a smile that dimpled at the corner of her mouth.
And her eyes. Her engaging blue eyes.
Time spoke through her eyes.
CHAPTER 32
The aroma of hickory emanated from the backyard patio.
From one end of the grill, Jesse watched streams of pallid smoke drift upward. Blake, his arm wrapped around Eden’s waist, hovered from the other side. Eden nestled her head against his chest as he drew her closer. Jesse grew amused as the couple flirted, giggled together, lost in shared secrets.
It was early Saturday evening.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your chef has returned!” Chuck called. He left the kitchen and slid the glass door shut behind him. As a church pastor, he had hosted countless guests at his house, which sat less than a mile from the church building. But tonight’s dinner was a family affair.
In a swift motion, Eden craned her neck toward the entrées as Chuck forked the slabs of meat onto the iron grid. “What on earth are those things you picked up to barbecue?”
With a grin that seemed to suggest his mouth watered, Chuck patted his belly. “They’re delicious. Pork steaks—haven’t had them in so long.”
“Sounds awful.”
“Truth is, they remind me of my childhood.”
Blake scrutinized the steaks. “Would that be the ragtime era?”
Chuck gave him a playful poke in the arm with the blunt edge of the barbecue utensil. “When I was a kid, my dad took me on a road trip.” He monitored the juice that beaded on the meat’s surface. “We went to a Cardinals game in St. Louis—Cards against the Cubs, eleven innings, Cards won five to four. After the game, we stopped in a local bar for dinner and noticed half the people ate pork steaks, the house specialty. So we tried ‘em out—and it was love at first bite.” Chuck flipped the steaks over to reveal the fat charred along the edges, but no harm done. “I seldom see them anywhere, but found them at the store today. Consider it an expansion of your borders.”
Amusement in her face, Eden remained skeptical and turned toward her brother. “Hmm. What do you think of that?”
“Hey, you know me. I’m always ready to expand my borders.”
Eden shook her head at Chuck. “If you make me sick on these things, I’ll never forgive you,” she joshed. Then she grabbed Blake by the arm and tugged him over to the glass-top patio table, where the pair set out plates and plasticware. Blake mimed a fork full of potato salad and waved it in front of Eden’s face. She veered back in laughter and pecked him on the chin.
Jesse glanced over at them, then returned his attention to his father. “What’s a party without the entertainment, huh?” Jesse borrowed the cooking utensil to move the lesser-cooked steaks to a hotter area on the grill.
Chuck eyed Eden and Blake as they traded jabs on their own side of the world. He snickered at the sight. “They’re always having fun. I like it when my kids are happy.”
“So he meets your approval?”
“Sure, he’s a good guy. And he’s sweet to her.” Chuck brushed barbecue sauce onto the steaks, which crackled over the flames. “Those two are much like your mom and me when we started dating. We were even younger than they are.”
“Do you think Eden loves him?”
“I think so. She didn’t look for love, though.”
“What do you mean?”
Chuck pursed his lips and added a final touch of sauce to the steaks, which Jesse turned over once again. “She never considered dating a priority. Not as a high-school kid—unfortunately, I didn’t have the pleasure of interrogating any suitors. Even after college, she grew preoccupied with larger-purpose things, work and so forth. After Blake came to church five years ago, his life changed. A while after that, he and Eden became friends. Poor guy; she was oblivious to his crush on her—and I’m talking years.”
“Sounds like Eden,” Jesse chuckled.
“He tried to get her attention, showing up by coincidence at activities, striking up conversations with her. Everyone could detect his interest—except her. And when she finally realized Blake’s crush, my daughter, in her typical strong-willed fashion, just kept her eye on him. She wanted to know how he operated when he didn’t know she saw him.”
“Played hard to get, huh?”
“That’s an understatement. She had him going for months longer—he wondered what in the world he did wrong.” Chuck gave Eden and Blake another glance. “She wanted to make sure he was trustworthy before she committed. She’s seen a lot of personalities as a social worker; she doesn’t want to enter a first date, much less a relationship, blindly.”
Jesse thought back to Jada. “Can’t say I blame her.”
Together, he and his father shifted the pork steaks, smoky scented and crisped around the edges, to a platter and headed over to the table, where Chuck said grace over the meal.
After dinner, Blake ducked out early to run by the shop for some inventory work. As the rest of them gathered the table settings, Chuck smacked Jesse’s hand in jest.
“I’ll take care of these,” the minister said. “You two hang out.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen with a stack of disposable plates and ware for the trash.
Jesse looked over at Eden. “You and Blake.”
“He said you’ve been a gentleman about the whole dating-your-sister scenario.”
“A gentleman?”
“My own paraphrase. He said you’ve taken it like a man. You’d better be nice to him.”
Jesse feigned innocence. “Far be it from me to interrupt your personal bliss.” In the initial taste of sunset, he listened to a dog bark in the distance—a large one, from the timbre of its voice. He pictured Jada trying to be kind to a Siberian Husky and getting trampled by the miniature horse as it lapped her face in gratitude. What had Jesse seen in her?
At the far corner of the yard, he noticed a football behind a bush, no doubt lost by the kid next door. Jesse headed over to retrieve it. “Remember when you used to tag along whenever the guys and I played? I was what, twelve years old?”
“How could I forget! I was only nine and, like, half your size. It was dangerous.”
Jesse had a glint in his eye. “Please! It was only flag football.”
“Yeah, until you bowled me over and tackled me to the ground!” She shook her head, the wounded soul. “One of your friends made it his ambition each game to try to give me a broken boob—if I’d had any back then!”
“Whatever, whiner,” Jesse joked. Football in hand, he walked back toward her and bumped it against her elbow. “How about a game right now? You know, for old time’s sake.”
“No way, Barlow.”
“Not up to the challenge?” he teased. “What’s the matter?”
“You cheat. You made it your ambition to break my arm!” she bantered in return. “Plus you believe in wedgies as loser awards, and I want to save you the embarrassment. What if I turned the tables on you after all this time?”
Jesse taunted her further until Eden snatched the ball from his hand and raced to the opposite end of the lawn.
“Wait, now who’s cheating?”
With a fist pump, Eden hooted and shouted, “Give it up for the girls!” She laughed. “First touchdown, and without a broken bone!”
She gave the ball a light punt and ran toward her big brother. When Jesse caught the ball and started to dart, Eden grabbed his ankle at the last moment in an effort to stop him. Though she clung with limited success, Jesse maintained his balance and dragged her, inch by inch, across the grass.
Chuck sauntered outside again. From the patio, he caught sight of his kids as they scuffled in hilarity in the lawn. His face impish, Chuck charged in with a shout, tackled both his kids in his arms, and tumbled over them.
At last, the three of them rolled apart, settled on their backs in the cool grass and its emerald hues of life. All three lay there in spontaneous mirth, their laughter so intense
that tears of joy erupted from their eyes.
A family together.
Just like old times.
CHAPTER 33
One morning around eight thirty the following week, Jesse, seated among red and yellow tulips, added fresh soil to the flower garden in front of the church. The dirt, when brushed over his skin, tickled his senses with its rich scent of minerals. Albeit crisp this time of day, sunlight warmed his skin and soothed his cheeks. Unlike the perpetual, lazy shine of the California sun, Ohio sunlight seemed to possess a brisk quality that left him invigorated and signaled a fresh start. To think, mere weeks ago, he could have caught snow flurries on his tongue in this garden.
By his own admission, Jesse found it easier to relax amid the pace here. An occasional car passed along the street before him. But with most people at work or school, the environment lacked the constant activity of the culture from which he’d emerged—a city that never slept, filled with actors between gigs or who worked the night shift at a restaurant.
At the sound of the familiar motorcycle putting to a stop, Jesse’s eyes darted straight to the parking lot. He shook his head in amusement as Chuck stripped off his helmet. Hard to believe: As far as Jesse had pushed the envelope as a young guy, he hadn’t taken his dad’s motorcycle out for a spin. And knowing Jesse back then, he wouldn’t have fooled with a helmet.
As Chuck approached the building, Jesse heard a set of keys clash in a tiny metallic chime as Chuck spun his key ring around his index finger. Jesse jerked his head toward the motorcycle.
“Do you ever wonder how many people would crucify you for being a preacher who rides a motorcycle?”
“Hey, don’t knock it,” Chuck played along. “I used to take you out on my old one.” With a glance toward his ringing cell phone, Chuck chose to ignore the call. “So Mel assigned you the dirty work, huh?”
“Literally. But it’s relaxing. Never had time to just fuck around with dirt back in L.A.—oh … sorry, I meant, ‘dig around in the dirt.’”
Jesse winced and peered up at the preacher, who kept silent. In fact, to Jesse’s surprise, Chuck hadn’t winced or expressed the slightest ounce of anger. Without a doubt, the man didn’t find humor in his son’s verb selection—Chuck wasn’t one to use offensive language—yet he seemed to let it pass in a nonjudgmental fashion. Still, Jesse could see a wrinkle in his father’s forehead that revealed Chuck indeed held an opinion.
Jesse dug in the dirt again. “I guess people might crucify me for swearing on church property, huh?”
Chuck compressed his lips, tilted his head in what seemed an indifferent manner. With a pat to Jesse’s back, he replied, “Well, if they do, they’ve forgotten the life they used to live.” Chuck rubbed a kink from the back of his own neck. “Still, it’s probably a good idea to watch your words. Deal?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Chuck slid his foot across a bare patch of soil and changed the subject. “I sure enjoyed the family dinner the other night.”
“It’s been a while.”
“Apparently, poor Eden thinks you busted her rib during your scrimmage.” The minister winked at his son.
“Daddy’s delicate princess.”
“I’d better get inside.” Chuck checked his watch. “Later, dude.” The preacher chuckled on his way into the building.
Jesse wiped away beads of perspiration that sprouted beneath his chin and returned to work. And a moment later, he felt a strange pooling sensation at the edge of his nostril, followed by a drop of blood that fell to the ground. Anxious and lightheaded, Jesse tilted his head back. Palms against the ground, he extended his arms behind him and reclined to stifle the bleeding.
It had to be due to this extended time in the sun and the chilly morning air. That’s what Jesse decided to chalk it up to.
Had the door clinked shut?
Jesse took a quick look toward the entrance to make sure Chuck had made it inside.
Good—no sign of his father. No need to get him involved in this, whatever it was.
Unable to pinch his nose closed because of his soil-caked hands, he leaned back further and rested on his forearms. On average, these nosebleeds had taken twenty minutes to heal.
So he waited.
CHAPTER 34
They met at Brick Oven again. Just the two of them.
Together they joked about the modest atmosphere and the high-school kids in booths around them. Neither Jesse nor Caitlyn had anything to hide—neither swam in cash at this point in their lives. Caitlyn enjoyed the restaurant’s sentimental strings. And Jesse treasured his rediscovery of how it felt to spend time with the girl he’d once loved.
And perhaps still did.
Drew wasn’t happy when told he couldn’t come along, but Jesse promised to take him downtown one day that upcoming weekend.
They ordered the same pizza at the same table as before. They sat on the same sides of the booth, and caught glimpses of each other’s familiar eyes.
“Drew talks about you constantly,” Caitlyn said. “He’s thrilled with Mom’s new friend.”
“Is Mom thrilled with her new friend?”
She pondered the question. “Mom’s trying to process it.”
Jesse treaded with caution. “Is that good or bad?”
Without a word, Caitlyn picked at her pizza crust. She seemed to avoid his face. “Why did you …” She wavered, as if unsure what to say next—or rather, to select the precise words. “I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t ask.”
“Ask what?” He leaned forward, his heart in search of hers.
At last, in a slow, delicate motion, Caitlyn raised her head and peered into Jesse’s face. Her voice yearned for honesty.
“Why did you come back home?” When Jesse eased back in his seat, she held out her palms. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound cruel. But after eleven years, I’m just … well, curious.”
That, plus scared to death of another broken heart, Jesse figured. Though she seemed to feel less awkward about his reappearance, Jesse could tell her own doubts caused her concern.
“Don’t apologize. It’s a fair question.”
“Did something happen?”
“A combination of things, I suppose.” He stumbled around for an answer. Yes, he wanted to offer candor. Jesse owed her that much. But he couldn’t mention the suicide attempt. “The situation got rough out there, not quite the picturesque outcome I’d imagined as a kid. Life happened. Then the reflection settled in: You reach a point in your life when you ask questions, evaluate where you’ve been and where you are—maybe even who you are. And I realized I’d failed out there, including ways unrelated to show business,” he said. “There were mistakes …”
Jesse shook his head with regret. The words came forth slow and honest. Though he felt ashamed, a purity existed as time froze in place. Caitlyn nodded her encouragement.
Jesse pressed on. “I guess it was time for me to slow down, time to take inventory of what matters in life.” He closed his eyes and escaped into the pain of the past before he reopened them. “Hard as I tried, I couldn’t forget about the baby, though I never laid sight on it or even knew it was alive. Random thoughts came to mind: Was it a boy or girl? If it were alive, what color hair would it have? Would it be left- or right-handed? Would the kid walk on the sidewalk or on the street?” A beat passed before Jesse continued. “But most of all, I thought this: Would the child wonder about its dad?”
Caitlyn folded her gentle hands on the table. “He wondered about you often.”
“Did he feel hurt?”
“No, not hurt. It was normal for him to be without a dad—that was all he’d known his whole life. He only wanted to understand.” She stared at her hands as she rubbed her thumb against her palm. “He had many questions—a lot of why’s: Why was his dad absent while other kids had their dads? Why couldn’t his mom and dad stay together?”
Jesse felt a blade in his heart as he pictured Drew, a young boy, struggling with rejection. Regardless
of whether it was all Drew had ever known, a kid should never experience such a thing in the first place. Oh, if Jesse could turn back time.
Caitlyn must have perceived his regret. She reached for his hand.
“He turned out fine,” she said. “Whatever void he might have, you’re filling it now.”
Each of them ate another slice of pizza in silence.
Jesse watched a middle-aged couple across the aisle, who rose from their booth and headed to the front counter to pay their bill. He listened to the idle clang of a cash register. The man drew his wife close and laid a kiss against her temple.
Jesse returned his attention to the girl before him, who sipped her iced tea with subtle refinement, before he broke their silence. “I never really forgot about you, Cait.”
Her cheeks deepened into a light blush, and she fluttered her hand in front of her face as if to hide the coloration. She held back her smile.
“You’re special,” he added. “You’re an emerald.”
Caitlyn’s face sobered. Still mild-spoken, she asked, “Did you have a girlfriend in California?”
Taken aback, Jesse paused.
“Yes,” he said. A vulnerable admission, one for which he could muster little more than a whisper.
Caitlyn deserved to know the truth. But Jesse knew it must be difficult for her to hear.
Caitlyn nodded as she processed it. Her eyes flitted from his eyes to her hands, and then returned to his eyes again. In her eyes, Jesse found a look of compassion, almost forgiveness. Her tone remained steady, kind, as though she knew the answer to the next question on her heart but needed to hear it herself. “And did you stay together with her long term?”
He sat amazed by her boldness, her strength, her quiet confidence. This was the girl with whom he had fallen in love. And now he found himself at a loss for words: What, in this present context, could justify his answer? He’d given Jada the relationship Caitlyn had sacrificed.
