by Queau, Amy
“Sorry. I’m really not used to this,” she says.
“Don’t apologize. C’mon, let’s go get some coffee.” Kissing her cheek, he takes her hand.
The kiss makes her flinch, but she decides to ignore it, hoping he hasn’t noticed.
Inside the café is unlike anything she’s felt before. The ambience is calming and smells like chocolate and coffee. She can’t help but inhale through her nose; the aroma is heavenly and she doesn’t want to waste a minute on just breathing. The walls are solid dark brick and small paintings for sale by local artists adorn them. There are white votive candles on every table, the seating is mismatched, and the tables are wooden and well-worn. There are only about six people in the entire place, including the one guy behind the counter waiting for them to order. She peeks at Ryan and he is waiting for her approval.
She nods with a shy smile and grips his hand tighter. “It’s perfect.”
He smiles. “What do you want to drink?”
“Mocha?” she asks.
“One mocha and one espresso for here,” he says to the barista.
Ryan takes Charlie’s hand and puts her into a dancing spin as he glides over to a table in the corner. A smile escapes her lips and a quick chuckle, ignoring the instantaneous spins she gets from the sudden movement.
“Sit here. I’ll get our drinks.” He pats the table and pulls the chair out for her.
Sitting down, she closes her eyes and takes in the smell of the place again.
By the time she opens her eyes, he is putting her cup down in front of her.
“You’re dangerous,” she says.
His eyebrows scrunch up and he tilts his head to the side as he sits down.
“You’re dangerous,” she repeats. “You shouldn’t go around doing this to unsuspecting girls. It’s not fair. You ruin us for all the other men out there.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” he says, still looking confused.
She laughs. “You make me feel like I deserve to be treated like a queen.”
“How?”
“Opening doors and compliments and quaint little coffee shops…” she fights back a tear, feeling silly. One escapes her eye and she is smiling, assuming it’s the alcohol playing with her emotion.
“No one has ever opened a car door for you?” he says, with a dismal look in his eyes, wiping away the fallen tear.
She takes a moment to think about the question. “Thank you for tonight. I’m having a great time.” She leans across the tiny tabletop and gives him a kiss.
The rest of the evening is flawless. They sit at the café for a little over an hour, talking about schools, jobs, friends, movies, and books. There is a definite attraction between the two of them; any onlooker could have confirmed it. But he seems to note her inexperience and is slowing his pace. Nothing about the evening makes her feel as though he has expectations of a physical encounter once it is over, but she is hoping for it.
Charlie had left her car at The Crimson. Ryan pulls into the parking lot and parks next to her vehicle as the evening comes to a close. He thanks her for an unforgettable date and gestures, seeking approval for a kiss. She leans in and obliges. His dreadlocks smell like piña colada and his cologne smells like patchouli; it is a pleasant combination. His lips are soft and unassuming.
“Take me home with you.” Her body is burning. Even her fingertips feel warm.
“Have you ever…I mean…are you sure?” He is so genuine, sincere and calming.
She doesn’t trust him completely, but having a friendship for almost a year with Jesse hadn’t made her trust him, either. She isn’t going to wait over a year when the opportunity is sitting right in front of her now. If she says “no,” she’ll never forgive herself. Here is this tall, good-looking, gentle man that is asking her if she really wants to have sex with him. Of all the men in her past, of all the tears that she’s poured, of all the heartbreak and disappointment she has endured, Ryan seems like the perfect choice. He doesn’t know about her past and doesn’t know what she used to look like. He doesn’t care about what Jesse will think, hasn’t worked at the restaurant, and hasn’t been there for the past year to watch Charlie make a fool out of herself. There is very little risk involved.
“Yes. Please.”
Without another word Ryan pulls her close, and for the first time, kisses Charlie without hesitation. It is a different kiss from any other she’s ever had. It’s untamed, passionate, and it shows no fear. Her tongue picks up on his motion and soon her entire body is aflame under his fingertips.
He pulls back and asks her to follow him in her car. Still dizzy, she gets in the Taurus and can’t slow her nerves. She tries not to think about what will happen when he gets her back to his bed.
As she turns her key, she sees it. Closing her eyes, she swallows. She quickly steps out of her car and plucks the note and single daisy off of her windshield. She unfolds it and reads:
I’m sorry. Thank you, I love it.
Chapter Two
Jesse is waiting for Charlie to say something, anything. Charlie is waiting for Jesse to say something first as well. She is very well distracted by Ryan and finds it convenient that Jesse stays away and only speaks to her about work. The last thing she wants is drama involving the two of them. She knows who would win.
It has been just over four weeks, and a snowfall is about to take launch. Charlie steps outside onto her deck to watch.
One snowflake falls at her toes, as she sees the storm starting to accumulate in the sky around her. One by one, each uniquely different in size, shape, direction, and purpose. All beautiful. All sent to her little city from a storm on another coast. Tentative at first, they descend slowly, gathering courage and speed all to become a part of the snowfall that will soon keep her from leaving her house.
The slower you want time to move, the faster it goes; and the faster you want it to pass, you find yourself counting the seconds. But as sure as the snow falls in the winter, spring violets are waiting patiently to bloom. Charlie doesn’t know if she wants time to pass slower, or quicker.
She finds herself contemplating her relationship with Ryan and whether or not it will or should last. It has been three uncharacteristic days since he’s called and hasn’t returned her calls, either. Is the outcome of their relationship even up to her? She never once thought that she would end up marrying Ryan, but she always thought that the man that would take her true virginity would be someone intriguing, exciting, daring, and mysterious, but also a friend. Ryan is none of these things.
“Too late for that.” Charlie speaks to the snowflake which lands on the tip of her nose just as she brushes it away.
Ryan was perfect that night. She followed him home after the coffee shop, despite the note on her windshield. And she experienced something real, lovely, and perfect. He was so gentle and warm. He must have put the pieces together on his own, because Charlie never told him why she was trembling. When he touched her, it was never ugly or mean. He never scared her or made her feel inadequate. He allowed her to keep herself mostly covered with the sheets, and she would be forever grateful for his discretion.
Ryan is a good guy. Honest. Sweet. Safe.
Jesse is a good guy, too. But not outwardly. He is verbose. Insecure. Damaged. Unsafe.
But there will always be something about Jesse that Charlie can’t resist. The way he moves: strong, animated, and passionate. The way he speaks: no reservations and no regrets. The way he lives: follows his heart, doesn’t invest in what others think of him, and never feels like he needs to explain himself…to anyone. She can’t help but be obsessed with him. He represents everything she’s never had. Everything she can’t have. And he is every boy that ever made fun of her because of her weight. And even though he has her tied around his ignorant pinky, she very much feels as though Jesse is suffering from the same affliction. Of course, she isn’t sure.
What Charlie likes most about Jesse is that she is one of the only people on the earth that k
nows who he really is. He has chosen her. He has let her in. He has allowed her to see this side of him. At this very moment, she knows she is special to him. Maybe not forever, and maybe not as special as he is to her, but she’d be a fool not to realize that he enjoys her, for whatever reasons he does.
The snow is falling harder now, and her mother is making her favorite meal for dinner: sirloin steak, chicken kiev, and fried shrimp. Charlie has lost almost one hundred pounds now, but she can’t resist. She’s never been hungrier in her life. She hasn’t given herself a meal like this in almost a year and she deserves it. Putting out her cigarette, she walks inside her house with a smile and shakes the loose snow off her hair.
*
Ryan had called her later in the week and said he wanted to “see other people.” What shocked her about his words was that she seemed mostly unaffected by his decision. She cried for exactly seven minutes before concluding that his rejection was the only thing that upset her. In fact, she almost felt relieved by it.
*
Once again, she finds herself in a booth on Tuesday after her shift. Most of the evening is uneventful – a few angry customers, a flirtation or two with Marco, average tips. But Jesse isn’t at work tonight, so Charlie’s as relaxed as she can be while remaining hopeful that he makes an appearance.
Fellow coworkers stop by the booth from time to time to discuss the weather, their plans after their shift, how annoying Lawrence is. The whole time, Charlie is keeping her eye on the front door, feigning interest in conversation.
She’d be stupid to think that the entire staff didn’t know who she was waiting for. She thought she had diverted all of that attention months back and quieted the rumors as soon as they surfaced. But people notice things like this. The smiling, the flirting, the eye contact. They notice how she flushes around him and how she lights up when he walks into a room. He’d be in denial not to notice as well. It’s been several weeks since she and Jess spent any time together, other than bland work interactions, and her anticipation has risen now that Ryan is out of the picture.
Just as she is taking a sip from her second beer, Jake walks in, orders something from the waitress, and appears at the end of Charlie’s booth with a large grin. Too large. Returning his welcoming smile, Charlie stands to give him a quick one-armed hug.
“Hey, stranger! I haven’t seen you in a while! I think it’s been a few months,” she says while gesturing him to have a seat with her.
“Yeah, you look different. What did you do?” Jake asks, still with a goofy smile on his face.
“I’ve lost some weight...”
“That’s it, I bet.” He snaps his fingers and points at her. His smile fades as he realizes how much he likes Charlie and how innocent she looks tonight – making what he and Jesse are about to do start to weigh on his conscience.
“You meeting someone?” she hints.
“No. Well, Jess is in the bathroom. We thought we’d stop by tonight to see if you were here,” he says with a wink. “How’s that boyfriend of yours? Jesse told me he has dreadlocks.”
“Yeah, well…we broke up.”
Jake’s brow furrows. “Oh, sorry about that,” he says.
Their waitress stops by and drops off three beers, and Charlie smiles. Her stomach turns and flips with the excitement and expectation of seeing Jesse again. But Jake is a nice distraction. For some reason, he is especially attentive this evening.
As Jesse strides in, Charlie can tell in an instant that he is drunk, or stoned. And she thinks she’s put her finger on why Jake seems different, too.
Jesse sits down next to her and puts his arm around her. “Hey, gorgeous,” he says, licking his lips and looking down at her cleavage.
“Really, Jess? That obvious? Are you drunk or high?”
“Yes.” He laughs and looks at Jake like they share some private joke.
“Well, behave yourself and sit with your buddy on the other side of the booth. I don’t want to have to spend all my energy getting you off my ass tonight,” she pokes fun at Jesse while she winks at Jake.
“Hahaha! You’ve got a feisty one on your hands here, Jess. Are you sure you can handle this one?” Jake and Charlie laugh.
Jesse isn’t sure if it’s the beer or the weed, but for some reason he can’t tear his eyes away from her tonight. Maybe it’s the dark red sweater. It is scooped along her neckline, lower than her normal shirts. It is also shorter and reveals her midsection if she bends a certain way. She is wearing dark red lipstick that matches it, but some of it has already rubbed off after a long shift at work, and it makes her lips look stained, almost like it’s a natural blush to her perfect mouth. He’s missed her in the past weeks.
When she excuses herself to use the restroom, he sees that she’s wearing a black pencil skirt that goes down to her knees, with a slit that extends up to the middle of her thigh. And she’s wearing stockings.
He spits out the beer that had been sloshing around in his mouth as she stands up. He can see the outline of a garter belt through her skirt. Instantly he tries to tame his urge to throw her up against the bar, passionately ripping up her skirt and lifting her up onto the barstool with her legs open to him…
“Hey, man, I don’t know about all this. And why did you spit out your beer?” Jake says as Jesse rips himself away from his momentary retreat of bliss.
“What the fuck was that?” Jesse intends to say to himself, but instead Jake responds.
“What was what?”
“Nothing. I have to go to the bathroom,” Jesse mumbles as he thinks about the shortest route to the restrooms so that no one will notice his arousal.
“Okay…didn’t you just get back from there?” Jake says in a fading voice as he sits and fumbles with his napkin, realizing that Jesse is already left.
Meanwhile, Charlie is in the bathroom trying to gather her wits. What am I thinking teasing him that way? It’s only going to push him away. And, why did I decide to wear these stupid stockings and a garter belt! They couldn’t be more uncomfortable, and he isn’t going to see them anyway. “That’s it, they’re coming off,” she says as she slips them off and stuffs them in her purse.
She steps outside of the stall and splashes cold water on her chest, trying to settle her nerves and gather the courage she needs to pretend like everything is the same between them. Aren’t I still supposed to be mad at him?
In the men’s bathroom, Jesse is also splashing cold water on himself. He has to snap out of the trance she has him in. He isn’t ready to bare his soul to her and tell her all of his secrets and he thinks he’s already told her too much. But he loses himself when she’s around; he’s caught up in her web. She’s a seductress and begs for him to touch her and bare all of him to her. He’s a little boy again, with a wet face, staring at himself in the mirror. He’s scared and knows what he wants but doesn’t want to admit it to himself, or to her.
“Pull it together, Jess! God damn it!” He kicks the stall door and exits the restroom.
In his newfound focus, he doesn’t see her through his tunnel vision and plows right into her as he leaves the restroom. Her breath catches as she keeps her head down. Their torsos lock.
“Watch it!” His voice shifts from accusing to concern. He steps back and looks at her.
“Sorry.”
Shaking his head, he flashes a smile at her. “Well, don’t just stand there, Red. We have drinking to do. C’mon.”
“Hey, what did you decide to do about Bree?”
Speaking frankly, he shrugs. “She’s not a part of my life or a part of my future.”
As they both arrive back at the booth, Jake looks at Jesse with a funny little smirk, looks at Charlie, and then looks back at Jesse again.
As Charlie orders another beer, she announces it will be her last. She has to get up early in the morning for her shift.
Jesse starts thinking about the morning shift, and how he’ll get to spend time talking to her. It will be Parm and Pepp day, and she’ll have to fi
ll the jars back by the delivery area. He enjoys Wednesdays; they are the only scheduled day every week that he is sure to work with her. It’s just an added bonus that the parmesan and crushed red pepper boxes are stored in the cabinet next to the delivery area, so that whoever fills them has to stand near him.
He is brought back to reality by a strange silence at the table. He notices her flush. It’s a sexy thing to see her cheeks and chest turn slightly pink.
Under the table, Jake is going through with the prank they had concocted earlier in the evening.
While Charlie and Jesse were in the bathroom, Jake had taken off his shoes under the table. As the two of them returned to their seats, Jake started at Charlie’s knees and was caressing the inside of her thighs with his socked foot.
Charlie of course, assumes it is Jesse.
Her heart is racing. Jake is moving his foot slowly around her kneecaps, dipping in and out of the space between them. He shoves his foot further, successfully spreading her legs apart. She flushes, grows warmer, and her breathing quickens. The thoughts racing through her head make her spin. What is she supposed to do? Should she push his foot away and play hard to get? Or should she just sit back and enjoy the anticipation of what he’ll do next?
She doesn’t know what to do. This is too good to be true. She now notices that Jesse is trying not to stare at her cleavage. He continues to shift in his seat as if she makes him uncomfortable. The way he’s moving back and forth reveals to her that there is no way it can be Jesse’s foot between her legs.
Jake!
Jake is the one committing this assault, because that’s what it is now. She can’t imagine someone else’s hands, or feet, upon her now. Jake is cute enough all right, but he isn’t her Jess.
“Whoever is sticking their foot up my crotch can stop now. And please note that I’m neither pleased nor amused,” she says sternly, eyeing up both of them, trying not to stare too long at either one.
Jesse’s and Jake’s mouths hang open for a split second too long. Proud of herself for saying something, it’s the only way she can attempt to rectify the humiliation of the situation.