Real Men Knit

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Real Men Knit Page 27

by Kwana Jackson


  Finally, the class was over, and when the last student left, Kerry let out a breath. She looked at Jesse and smiled. “You did great. You’re a born teacher.”

  “Thanks. I enjoyed it. Hopefully they’ll tell their friends and we can expand on the classes even further.” He looked like he wanted to say more but instead began to clear off the table.

  Kerry knew she wanted to say more but instead started to clear off the coffee mugs and teacups that were left. Jesse’s voice stopped her. “Leave that. I can do it.”

  “But”—she looked at him, and his eyes were cold and unwavering—“I don’t mind.”

  Still he shook his head. “No, I’ve got it. You don’t have to clean up after me anymore, Kerry. Those days are done.”

  Val nudged Kerry, bringing her mind to the task at hand. “Are you okay? You look done for.”

  Kerry looked at Val and for a moment she still saw the cold eyes of Jesse. Felt the finality of his words.

  Had she made a mistake? “He said those days are done.”

  Val frowned, then her eyes went soft. “Oh, honey,” she whispered and looked around. “I know. But done is never done.” She patted Kerry’s hand. “Just hang on a few more minutes and this assembly will be over. Then I promise you we’ll have him eating his words. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Kerry shook her head, embarrassed for having zoned out like she had. “I’m fine. Just tired. Guess I’m as ready for the break as the kids.”

  Val gave her a long look. “You sure? Can you make it through this?”

  Kerry snorted. “Of course I’m sure. Stop fishing, Ms. Director. There is nothing to see here.” She looked over at the doorway, where Gabriel Webb was, and saw him greeting some of the mentors as they began to arrive. She nudged Val. “Looks like you’d better get over there. Some of the presenters are arriving,” Kerry said as she spotted Connie Rae and her husband, Raymond, who owned Corrine’s Cakes. And there was Becky Bryant, who owned the ironically named Good Hair, which specialized in natural hairstyling. Becky laughed at Gabriel and held on to his hand for an inordinately long time. Kerry held back her own laugh. Now that word was out about Gabriel, it was clear to see they would be in no shortage of single-parent volunteers at the center.

  But Kerry froze when she saw the next person come in, followed by two others. It was Jesse, and behind him were Lucas and Damian. “What are they doing here?” Kerry whispered.

  “Don’t you mean what is he doing here?”

  “He, they, what does it matter?”

  Val shrugged. “I think it matters to you, but whatever.” She started to walk forward then. “Pay attention, Teach. You may learn something.”

  * * *

  Jesse was nervous but knew he had to do this. It was now or never with Kerry. He paused, halting in his tracks when he locked eyes with her across the center of the cafeteria floor. It was like a hush came over the room and everything went still. The workers stopped moving, the kids stopped screaming, everything went quiet and it was only her. But wait, who was he fooling? Was it really now or never? Sure, this felt like it. And yeah, he was scared shitless, but he knew if he fucked up—and it was him, so he probably would—so what? This was Kerry and he wasn’t giving up. Not on his life. He’d sure as shit just untangle his mess and start over once again. There was no now or never when it came to Kerry. With his love, their love, he’d never give up. He’d just keep on knitting. He knew this, and he’d probably always known this, which was why he was such an idiot and had lost so much precious time and so many precious years looking at her from afar when he could have been loving and cherishing her from up close.

  What a waste. A waste of good time and so much good loving. Damian nudged him in his side. “You just gonna stand here, dummy? Making eyes at her like you’re thirteen?”

  “Be quiet, bro,” Lucas said from Damian’s other side. “Don’t worry, he’s got this. He’s not going to screw it up. Not this time.”

  Kerry only nodded at them. She gave a smile, but it was so bland—lips only—that he could barely recognize her. Staying on her side of the room, she tended to her kids as the other presenters went through their programs. As it got closer to their time to come up, Jesse could feel his heart race faster. He looked at the kids, then looked back over at Kerry. Normally she looked at him with so much easy encouragement, but he couldn’t find it today. Today all he saw was confusion and uncertainty in her wide eyes. Once again, though, Damian nudged him forward.

  Jesse hardly heard Val’s intro, but he did hear when she brought up Mama Joy’s name. Jesse blinked then. “Though we’ll miss Ms. Joy so very much,” Val was saying, “we’ll always remember what she’s done, the skills and life lessons she’s instilled in so many of us in the community. And luckily for us, her legacy will continue on with her sons, the new proprietors of Strong Knits. Today we have speaking three of them, Jesse Strong, Lucas Strong and Damian Strong.” She made a gesture for them to begin, and they were interrupted by the sound of a boy.

  “Oh look, Errol, it’s those boy knitters like you.”

  Jesse looked over then, for a moment his fear and even Kerry forgotten as his eyes searched for Errol and where the comment had come from. He quickly found Errol sitting by a back table looking straight ahead, eyes bright like he was holding back both his tears and the “eff you” comment he wanted to retort. He stared at Jesse.

  Jesse smiled and looked at the assembly. “Yes, it’s us, those boy knitters. Sexy, huh?” He winked, and a bunch of the girls giggled, while some of the teachers did too. “I’d like to also introduce a fellow boy knitter and firefighter, my brother Lucas.”

  A bunch of the kids clapped at that, and one girl yelled, “I know him! He came to my house when our grandmother got sick. They had to do CPR on her.”

  “And I’d like to introduce another boy knitter—”

  “Man knitter,” Damian interrupted, and Jesse sighed. “And certified CPA,” Damian added as Jesse’s eyes went to the sky. This guy.

  “But can you knit?” a little girl yelled out, not to be deterred.

  Damian frowned at the blunt question as he gave the little challenger a side-eye. Not backing down, the little girl folded her arms and just stared. Finally Damian replied, “I do all right. Socks are my specialty, if you must know.”

  The little girl beamed, satisfied, and the brothers continued, talking about what they had learned from knitting and its values—things like concentration, discipline, coordination. They used Noah as that example and showed a video of him dancing.

  “Wow,” young Troy, who had teased Errol earlier, finally said. “This must be great for impressing girls.”

  Everyone erupted into a fit of giggles, and Jesse looked at Kerry. “Um, I don’t know. There are definitely worse ways, but we could give it a try. You see, when you make something by hand, whatever you make takes time, patience, concentration and your energy. You should value that. So, when you give a gift, you should do it with a clear intention and your pure heart. And that’s the same way you should receive such a gift. That is a lesson it’s taken me way too many years to learn, but I think I finally have.”

  Jesse reached around then, his blood rushing, his heart pounding as he pulled out the now finished shawl made from all the beautiful petal remnants that Mama Joy had knitted and collected over the years, plus the ones he’d added after Kerry had gone back to her place. He knew it was time for him to step up and stop relying on her and others to fill in the missing gaps for him, and for him to take the initiative and put himself out there for those that he loved. He needed for this to be—no, hoped it would be—the first step in showing her the man he was and would now be.

  “Miss Kerry?” Shit. Was that him calling her name, or was it young Errol? Dammit, he couldn’t let a tween steal his woman!

  Kerry looked at him, her eyes wide, beautiful and glistening. Crap, and now he could b
arely speak. How was it she did this to him when no one else did? If this wasn’t love, then he didn’t know what was. There was a small shove at his back, and then he was moving forward. “Go and get your girl,” Lucas said. Thank God for his meddling brothers.

  “Our girl,” he heard Damian mutter.

  Nosy-assed bastards.

  But suddenly he was right there in front of her, shawl in hand. “Kerry Girl.” Jesse felt her name come out like a breath from his heart. “Will you accept this? Please.” He cleared his throat. The school setting made it feel like he was about to give a holiday report. Talk about pressure. He let out a breath. “Along with my heart, soul and love? Wherever you are and whatever you do, know that I’m always here for you, supporting you and all you are and want to do. I don’t want you to get lost in me. Just know that with you I find myself.” He was sweating. It was official, he was definitely sweating.

  But Jesse stared at her, and Kerry was so very quiet as the kids erupted in cheers. She reached out to touch the multicolored, mismatched shawl. He wondered what she was thinking as she touched it. It was so like him, like his brothers and like the two of them. It went with everything and nothing at all. Where would she even wear it? To Netflix and chill, maybe? A perfect metaphor for his life—and he hoped with all his heart that she could accept it.

  Finally, she looked up at him, eyes glistening, and nodded. Lord, could he breathe again?

  “I thought I told you I’m nobody’s girl.”

  “Oh Miss Kerry, I know it, but can’t you make an exception for me? Throw a dude a bone? Say, trade Kerry Girl in and become my woman. Let me be your man. However you’ll have me or want me. Please let me be that or die happily trying?”

  She stared at him for a long time—or, who knew, maybe it was just a moment—before she smiled, and it was as if the sun finally shone on him again. She blinked, and he saw the tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to try to be anything you’re not, Jesse Strong. Don’t you know I’ve always loved who you are, that it was more than enough for me?”

  It took all he had not to pass out in the middle of that crowd of kids. But shit if he didn’t feel his whole world spin forward, backward, tilt and then right itself again. He may have actually swooned too, because there was Lucas’s hand for a moment, righting him, and Kerry laughing as she wrapped an arm around his neck, her fingers lightly caressing his nape.

  She grinned playfully then and held up the shawl. “Still, it took you long enough,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for a handknit gift from you forever.”

  He let out a breath and laughed. “And I’ve been waiting to tell you I love you for forever.”

  And just when he thought the noise couldn’t get louder, Kerry told him she loved him too and kissed him.

  “Get it, Miss Kerry!” a girl whooped.

  “I’m gonna take up knitting!” a little boy said.

  “Okay, cut it out,” Val said in Jesse’s ear. “I just got this good job and now I’m gonna have to deal with angry letters from parents. Damn you, pretty-assed Jesse Strong!”

  Photograph of the author by Katana Photography

  USA Today bestselling author and native New Yorker KWANA JACKSON spent her formative years on the A train, where she had two dreams: (1) to be a fashion designer and (2) to be a writer. After spending more than ten years designing women’s sportswear for various fashion houses, Kwana took a leap of faith and decided to pursue her other dream of being a writer. A longtime advocate of equality and diversity in romance (#WeNeedDiverseRomance), Kwana is the mother of twins and currently lives in a suburb of New York with her husband.

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