by Mysti Parker
Jesse went first. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you about the nightmare I used to have.” He propped his arm on one bent knee, still holding his half-empty glass of sweet tea.
“No, you didn’t. Can you tell me about it now?”
"Wait. Are you feeling up to hearing other people's problems right now? It can wait."
"No, please, I want to. It's what I do. Feels normal, and if anything, I need some normal today."
Jesse nodded. “Okay. The nightmare is always the same. I’m in the living room, playing with my brother Jack. He was maybe nine and me, eight. Anyway, we loved our Matchbox cars. Used to line them up, race them, build tracks for them.” He swallowed hard then took a drink of his tea.
Leigh wanted to keep him going, now that he’d planted another seed to let her further into his psyche. Less importantly, it was a good distraction from her own worries. “Sounds like you had fun with your brother back then. Go on. What happened next?”
Swirling the ice around in his watered-down drink, he focused on it and continued. “Yelling. Dad comes in drunk, which wasn’t unusual. Mom’s lying on the couch with a headache. Next thing we know, Dad’s wailing on her with a belt. Jack drags me down the hall and into their room. It’s the only one that locks. So, Jack locks the door, and we wait. As long as we were out of sight, Dad left us alone." He paused, staring at his glass.
"What happened after that? In your nightmare?" She prompted him, but had a strange suspicion that this was more than a dream.
"We wait for him to get tired of beating Mom. We expect him to head into the kitchen to raid the fridge, and figure he might pass out there on the floor in the middle of a spilled can of grape soda. It’s hard, though, when you hear your mom pleading for it to stop, and you’re just a kid. You can’t do anything."
Geese flew over them in a messy V formation, their shadows flicking across Jesse's face. Fear and anger clashed in his eyes.
She massaged his shoulder to help coax him into talking more. "Kids often feel helpless in an abusive home. What happens next in the dream?"
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips. “The noise doesn’t stop this time. Mom’s screaming, ‘No, don’t do it, think of our boys!’ and then there’s a gunshot. And another one. Heavy footsteps come down the hall. The doorknob to the bedroom rattles. I’m crying. Jack’s crying. We think we’re gonna die."
Jesse scrubbed a hand over his face. This was hard for him. Leigh moved the tray out of the way and scooted closer. She let her bare foot brush against his.
He gave her a little smile and continued. "Dad had a lot of guns. He left them all over the house, loaded, unloaded. He never bothered to put them in a gun safe. It’s a wonder we didn’t blow our own heads off. But he’s right outside the door, pounding on it with his fist, then something harder, which I assume is the gun. Those doors were the cheap kind, hollow. You can hear every sound through them. All he has to do is throw his weight against it, and me and Jack are sitting ducks. Jack tries to drag me to the closet, but I won’t let him, so he goes in and hides, begging me to get in there with him. A closet would buy us a few seconds at best. I pull out Dad’s nightstand drawer, and under the worn-out Playboys and Hustlers, is his .45. Most eight-year-olds wouldn’t know how to use it properly, but Dad had us shooting targets in the backyard from the time we could hold a gun. So, I pick it up, rack the slide, and point it at the door. He starts butting his shoulder up against it, yelling for us ‘little pricks’ to come out and face him like a man. I can’t see well, I’m crying so hard, but I flip off the safety and pull the trigger. The door explodes, with this huge hole and wood shrapnel flying everywhere. One of the shards hits my cheek. And through the hole, I see Dad slide down the wall. There's a trail of blood behind him.” He went quiet then, finishing his tea in one big gulp.
Leigh focused on the scar just below his right eye. “This wasn’t a dream, was it?”
Jesse shook his head.
This was beyond huge. The breakthrough she’d been waiting for with Jesse, that thing he’d kept just beyond her reach from the start. But it was a lot worse than she would have guessed.
Now that it was out in the open, she guided the conversation to the reality of the situation. “Why did she take the blame?”
“Because she knew how this town is. People don’t forget. She didn't want us suffering any more than we already had. It was easy enough for people to accept her story, considering her wounds. It was self-defense. She didn’t serve any time.”
“What about the evidence?”
“We owe that to the sheriff, who was the deputy then. He was first on the scene. He knew how messed up my folks were. Everybody knew. It wasn’t hard to make it look like Mom did it. And I didn’t understand how that all worked back then. I was scared. I thought I’d go to jail or that Mom would for lying, so I kept quiet.”
“What happened to your mom after that?”
“She used more drugs, went to rehab. Then she got out and got high again. Maybe she couldn’t stand the sight of us…of me, I guess, so she left us at Mamaw and Pa’s one day and never came back. I don’t know where she is. I tell people she moved to Cincinnati, because that’s the last place we knew that she'd been to. She could be dead, for all I know.”
Leigh's fears seemed miniscule now. Then again, she’d been just as terrified at that age, only for different reasons. Like it or not, they had a lot of pain in common. Slowly, she took his trembling hand in hers and interlaced her fingers with his. He stared at the water below their feet.
At that moment, his vulnerability was at its peak. His mental and emotional well-being rested on her response, so she considered her words carefully. “No wonder you weren’t sleeping. You’ve carried that secret around with you for so long, it’s like a millstone around your neck. Your guilt made you think you weren’t worth loving, though as a child, you couldn’t process that. You knew subconsciously that if you were bad enough, you’d be unlovable. You’re fortunate to have had grandparents and a sheriff who protected you and knew you were good at heart. And you are, Jesse. You’re one of the best men I’ve ever met.”
His jaw tightened. “But I killed my own father, Leigh. What kind of man does that make me?”
“A man who, as a child, had no other choice.”
“I did have a choice. I could have let him kill us.”
“But you didn’t. You chose to live. You protected your family the only way you knew how. It didn’t make you a bad boy, and it doesn’t make you a bad man. All that’s left is for you to believe that.”
His eyes glistened. A slight smile curved his mouth. His bottom lip trembled as did his voice. “I’m getting there. Thanks for not giving up on me.”
A few weeks ago, she’d have never wanted to be this close to him. For years, she’d hated a phantom, a version of Jesse that didn’t represent the man within.
Leigh got on her knees and wrapped her arms around him. “I can’t give up on you, Jesse. I love you too much.”
“You love me?” he whispered.
Leigh went still. Had she really just said that? Should she have been that open with her own feelings? He needed to process his emotions, not hers. But it was out now, and she couldn’t take it back. Might as well face the fallout.
“Yes,” she said and held her breath.
He squeezed her tight, but his body relaxed, his breaths steady. “Good, because I’ve been in love with you for quite a while now. I didn’t need another secret to keep.”
Leigh pulled back, smiling, her heart lighter than it had been in years. She searched his face, his gorgeous blue eyes and dimpled chin. But his real beauty lay within, and she was blessed to have discovered it.
“I have a great idea," she said. "How about we hang out for a while until the sun goes down, then we’ll watch The Princess Bride and pig out on popcorn and soda.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard today. But first…” He pulled her close again. His lips brushed hers
then captured them, making her dizzy and giddy.
So, this is what love feels like. It was the best feeling ever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It had been years since Jesse had whistled. And here he sat, filling out the morning paperwork, whistling like one of the seven dwarves. Of course, Sheriff noticed it when he emerged from his office and made his daily trip to the coffee station.
“What’s got you all happy today?” he asked, tossing Jesse a grin that suggested he knew before he had even asked.
“I’ve managed to find someone who can put up with me.” Jesse lifted his pen from the accident report he’d been preparing. “Do you think she’s too good for me, Sheriff?”
“Maybe, but just consider yourself lucky.” His voice had a bitter edge, understandable considering his wife’s numerous lovers. He came over to Jesse’s desk and pulled up a chair. “I thought I was lucky, but I knew deep down that Penny wasn’t what I needed. I’d tried to replace Nancy, and it backfired. But son, I think you’ve got a good woman here, just like Nancy. Had I known she’d be gone five years after we married, I might not have taken a chance on her, but I’m glad I didn’t know, because that five years was the happiest time of my life. Don’t waste your chance.”
Jesse swallowed past the knot in his throat and managed a nod. Sheriff stood, cup of coffee in one hand, while the other hand gave Jesse’s shoulder a quick, firm squeeze. The look they shared said what words couldn’t convey. Jesse owed this man more than he could ever repay.
And then Clara had to shatter the moment. “Be sure you wear a condom!” she called from her place behind the counter.
A teenage driver was sitting in the license photo seat. Her lip curled into the typical teenager disgusted expression. The camera flashed.
Jesse scrubbed a hand over his face, trying not to laugh. “I’ll be fine, Clara!”
Sheriff shook his head and sipped his coffee, waving her off. “I’d fire her, but she’d just come back. I’m convinced she’s immortal.”
The phone rang as Jesse finished sorting the latest court summonses, divorce, and child support papers he needed to deliver today. Certainly not his favorite part of the job. Chasing escaped pigs was better than this stuff. Strike that. No, he’d rather not be covered in pig shit again.
Clara answered the call, her volume stuck on high again. He felt sorry for whoever was on the other end. “Beach Pointe Sheriff’s Department, can I help you? ...Yes… All right…When? Speak up, for Christ’s sake… Got it. We’ll send someone out.”
She tottered over to Jesse and stuck a Post-it note with an address on the papers in front of him. “Possible break-in overnight at Bride Pride. Better go take a look.”
“Okay. Thanks, Clara.”
“Huh?”
“I said thanks!”
She pressed her thin lips into a thinner line. “Hmph. You don’t have to yell.” Then she tottered back to the counter.
Just another normal day at the office. Except this time, Jesse had someone to go home to. He got up to leave then turned back for his hat, sitting in its usual forgotten place on his desk. It made him think of Leigh, how she'd saved his hat and his conscience doing what came naturally to her. She helped people with their problems because it helped her overcome her own fears.
God, how he loved that woman.
When he arrived at Bride Pride, he hadn’t gotten two steps from the car before Avery Price came barreling out the door. Fists perched on her hips, she looked mad as an old, wet hen.
“Took you long enough,” she said.
“Sorry, ma’am. What seems to be the trouble?”
“Someone took my Alfred Angelo.”
“Is that your dog or…?”
“No, it’s a bridesmaid dress. A very expensive one. It was… Just follow me.”
She marched back inside. He tried to keep up, but for a short woman with short legs, she sure was fast. Inside, she led him past rack after rack of frilly white, pink, and blue things in various shades that only women could name. How she didn’t get lost among the silk and satin, he didn’t know. He could barely see the top of her head, weaving between them. Finally, Jesse pushed past a rack of scratchy veils and trains or whatever they were, and almost stumbled over Avery.
She’d parked herself in front of a naked half mannequin. “It was right here yesterday, and now it’s gone.”
He pulled out his notebook and licked the tip of his ballpoint pen. “Were there any signs of forced entry?”
“The back door was unlocked.”
“Are you sure you didn’t leave it unlocked and maybe just misplaced the dress?”
“Seriously? I never leave the shop unlocked, and neither does Glen.”
Jesse knew Glen and his husband, Jeff. They were the only married gay couple in town after all. Luckily, they were older and had been out of high school long before Jesse could unleash on them. “Would Glen have worn it or…?”
“Uh, no! Glen’s gay. He’s not a drag queen. At least I don’t think so.”
“Hey, who’s the muscle?” Glen breezed by from the back of the store and headed for the front counter. “What’s up? Everything okay?”
“Speak of the devil,” Avery said. “You know anything about the Alfred Angelo?”
“What about it?” Glen narrowed his eyes, sounding hesitant.
“It’s not here.” Avery slapped the mannequin. The blonde wig swished as the fake lady wobbled, her face frozen in solemn plastic obliviousness. “That wedding party will be here in half an hour for a final fitting, and if I have to order a new one and let it out again for that woman who thinks she’s a twelve but is actually a sixteen, I will go insane and take you down with me!”
“Easy now,” Jesse said. He didn’t know Avery well, but he’d have never guessed her to be a hothead. She had a sweet, heart-shaped face you’d expect to see in a choir. And she'd cried a lot back in high school, mostly because of him. He had yet to cross her off his list, but right now wasn't the time.
Glen propped a hand on his hip. “Geez, who stepped on your train?”
Avery squeezed her eyes shut. “The back door was unlocked when I got here, and the dress was gone.” She took a deep breath, sounding slightly calmer this time.
Flattening his palms on the counter, Glen’s face went pale. “I didn’t lock it? I thought I did. I am so sorry.”
“When was the last time you were here? Last night or this morning?” Jesse asked.
“Last night.” He glanced at Avery then averted his eyes.
Avery arched one skeptical eyebrow. “And did you take the dress with you?”
“I, uh, took it to the cleaner’s.”
If Avery had been a teakettle, she would have been spewing steam. The red on her face matched a gaudy, sequined dress on a nearby rack. “What did you do, Glen? Did you wear it? Did Jeff?”
He cringed, tongue stuck out slightly as if he might gag. “Are you joking? We’re gay, not drag queens.”
“Told you,” Avery whispered, nudging Jesse.
Nodding, Jesse just crossed his arms and waited for the mini drama to play out. He’d play bouncer if he had to. Right now, his only struggle was trying to keep a smile off his face.
“All right, all right.” Glen held his hands up in surrender and came out from behind the counter. He walked up to Avery and looked down at her. Glen wasn’t tall, either. She was just that short. “I have a confession.”
“You wore it.”
“No! For crying out loud, it’s a hideous color. I wouldn’t wear it even if you gave me a raise.”
“That’s a beautiful color. How can you say such a thing?”
Jesse stepped slightly between them, pointing his pen between the store owner and her employee. “Could you perhaps get on with the story, please?”
“Okay, so I closed up and left last night, carrying my Starbucks cup. They gave me regular when I had asked for blonde roast. That stuff’s so strong, you can polish silver with it.”
Clearing his throat, Jesse rolled his finger around in a ‘get on with it’ gesture.
“Sorry. Long story short, I dropped the coffee, and it splattered all over the dress.”
Avery gasped. “You didn’t.”
“I did. So, I rushed it to the cleaner’s right after that, and I was going to pick it up this morning as soon as they call to tell me it’s done. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“Me? Not notice? And what about the door?”
“I guess I rushed out last night so fast that I forgot. I’m so sorry, Avery. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Darn right, you will. Leigh and I need a girls’ night out. You’re buying.”
“Whatever you want. Just don’t get the bourbon. It makes you crazy.” Glen turned to Jesse with a shaky smile. “I guess you won’t be putting me in handcuffs, Deputy.”
“Nope.”
“Pity.” Glen’s phone dinged. His face brightened. “Oh, oh, it’s ready. I’ll go right now and get it. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” He took his keys from his pocket and rushed out.
“This day is not off to a good start,” Avery said and heaved a long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry to waste your time.”
“All in a day’s work,” Jesse said.
As he stuck his notebook back in his shirt pocket, Avery crossed her arms. Lips pursed, she thumbed her silver hoop earring. “How’s Leigh?”
“She’s okay. She’s tough.”
“Mmm.” Avery nodded slowly, eyes scanning the room before resting on him again. “She texted me from the hospital. I was tied up here. I wanted to rush over there, but she told me to stay put. She hates being fussed over. She also told me what you did for her, so thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Leigh is like a sister to me, understand?”