Jesse

by Reina Torres

  “I had some ready for us. I’ll go into the back and prepare a tray.”

  As she walked away, Jesse called after her. “You should tell your husband that he’s lucky he found you first!”

  Her laughter trailed after her as he started to separate his clothes.

  ETTA

  The Sagebrush Motel looked like it had been a happening place at one time. The two stories were taller than all the other buildings leading up to it, making it seem like the grandest building on the street.

  The aging neon signs flickered intermittently in the dark and instead of making the motel appear dark or dangerous it brought to mind old memories of road trips to and from a half-dozen places. They’d never reserved hotel rooms in advance, always traveling until a place struck their fancy.

  And the Sagebrush did just that.

  But that had been years ago and gauging by the fact that she’d only been driving for an hour, she wasn’t sure she was far enough away from home that her father wouldn’t find her.

  Not that she was expecting him to care much about her to begin with.

  The road stretched on before her, getting darker and darker. Almost as if on cue, she began to yawn and realized that while she’d only driven an hour away, it was plenty enough for that night. She needed some sleep or her new life might end before it really began.

  Turning the car off on the shoulder, Henrietta looked both ways before she grasped the wheel and carefully made a U-turn to head back to the motel.

  Pulling into the parking lot, Henrietta noticed that there were a bunch of cars in the lot and a few of the rooms had some light shining through the curtains.

  Setting the brake, she turned off the car and sat still and quiet for a long moment. Looking down at her fancy dress she smoothed her hands over the skirt and felt the subtle scratch of her crinolines against the tops of her thighs.

  She was a long way from those exciting road trips of her childhood. Sitting in the darkness of her car, Henrietta listened to the utter silence around her. It was silly, she knew, but she was listening for the sound of her mother’s voice. A soft cascade of laughter. Or feel the soft touch of her mother’s hand on the top of her head, like she often did to rouse Henrietta from a nap.

  Because she would love to wake up from the nightmare she’d just experienced.

  It was her father’s angry voice that echoed through her head. His caustic and cutting words had always hurt her feelings, but over the years, she had become more adept at letting those words internalize themselves because her father was a man who couldn’t stand tears.

  And tears, she had plenty of.

  It was a good thing that she’d decided to stop for the evening. She was tired, aching in her arms and legs. Anger always did that to her. Her father always did that to her. And at the thought her chest tightened up as well as she got out of the car, almost forgetting to turn off the engine.

  She took her purse as she made her way to the small window at the side of the lobby marked AFTER HOURS.

  Peering into the window, she didn’t see anyone in the office.

  But that, she reasoned, was the point.

  Behind the desk and a few steps down a hallway, she saw the glow from a television set and a pair of stockinged feet resting on a cushioned stool.

  On the shelf before her she could see a bell. Not the kind you would pick up with a handle and shake. No, the kind with the little depressor that made the whole metal bell chime.

  Hating to intrude, but exhausted, Henrietta pressed the top of the bell down lightly.

  She looked up at the clock on the wall and winced at the time, almost ten o’clock. Well, with her luck the night manager or person… or whatever would be fast asleep and she’d have to sit in her car all night.

  She thought over it for a long minute and then pushed the top of the bell again, just a smidge harder.

  Still, nothing.

  Blowing out a breath, she felt a lock of her hair lift from her brow and then settle back down into place.

  “Just great.”

  Turning around in a slow circle, her eyes finally lit on the only place in the three blocks of buildings that looked like it was open.

  While the sign itself didn’t have any neon, the well-lit interior told her exactly what it was. The wall to wall machines and solid wooden tables said it was a laundromat.

  And didn’t that just kick her where it hurt. A laundromat. She was certainly in need of one.

  Turning her gaze back to the night window which remained conspicuously empty, she shook her head. “Looks like I’m going to have to change my plans again.”

  Having carried… dragged her suitcase to the car, she wasn’t about to do the same from the motel to the laundromat. It was close, but the ache in her arms said it was going to be too much to do again in one night.

  Getting back into her car, she was all too aware that if she shut her eyes she’d probably fall right to sleep.

  Opening her eyes as wide as she could, she started the engine and drove through the parking lot toward the warm lights of the laundromat.

  There was a sign on one of the windows facing her.

  OPEN ‘TIL MIDNIGHT

  At least that would give her a little bit of time to see if someone could help her get checked into the motel. And time to clean her clothes. Her dress was fine for a night at the country club, but come morning, she was going to look pretty silly walking around like that.

  She pushed open the car door and got out again, ridiculously happy that she’d put on her Keds instead of her heels. At least her feet are going to be comfortable, even if she was going to feel all kinds of out-of-place.

  The trunk lid opened up easily enough, and the suitcase latches flung open as if they were all too happy to take a break from their jobs.

  Lifting the photograph from the top, she set it and her blanket aside and stared at the pile of clothes in her suitcase.

  Wiggling the suitcase over enough that the top was laying at a shallow angle, she folded the blanket in half and draped it over the empty half.

  She transferred a bunch of the clothes to the blanket and for a moment, she thought she’d just wash some of it, but then she remembered that she’d put her clean underwear in first.

  Henrietta knew it was only prolonging the work to do some of it. She was at the laundromat now and if she decided to keep on driving the next morning, who knew when she’d have another opportunity.

  Being practical certainly wasn’t any fun.

  Scooping up the rest of her clothes in large handfuls she piled everything up onto the blanket and then wrapped up the corners in a big twist of fabric and let out a long breath before giving it a big yank.

  She didn’t get it on the first try and took a quick look around. The last thing she wanted was to be the butt of anyone’s jokes.

  Bending her knees and leaning against the back bumper of the car, she wrapped her hands around the twisted fabric and yanked it again, pulling up and back.

  “Wow!”

  She stumbled backward but kept from landing on her backside with a couple of steps.

  “This is going to kill me one way or another.” Grumbling at herself was better than crying and gave her the grit to walk that heavy weight toward the door of the laundromat.

  It was a herculean effort for her, but she’d already taken a huge leap earlier that evening. What was one more?

  JESSE

  Betty paused with her teacup held before her lips and Jesse saw the side-long look she gave him. “I hope you combed your hair and had the good sense to put on some cologne.”

  She took a sip, but her lips remained in a delicate smile directed at him.

  “You thinking of asking me out, Betty?” Jesse’s grin was wide and genuine as the gracious older woman blushed. “If you did, I’d consider it.”

  “Silly boy.” Her eyes flickered to him and turned back toward the door. “Sit up straighter.”

  He set down his own teacup. “Worried about m
y posture, mom?”

  She shrugged and took a long slow sip. It was only a few seconds later when the bell above the door jingled as it swung inward.

  Jesse turned his head and was caught in an odd moment of déjà vu. Standing just inside the doorway was a real, live princess.

  A quick look into the parking lot told him that she was parked beside his truck, another happenstance that he’d thank his lucky stars for later.

  Jesse got to his feet and made himself useful.

  “Welcome.”

  “Thanks.” She drew in a deep breath and looked around. “I guess you can tell that I’m not from around here.”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the comment. “We don’t get many princesses around here. Are you a runaway from Disneyland?”

  Her face transformed with laughter. “If they hire me as a princess, they’d be in real trouble.” She dropped what she was carrying to the floor and the make-shift bag slapped down on the linoleum. “I’m glad you’re open. I’ve never… I’ve never done this before.”

  “Been to a coin laundry?” He waved off her worry. “It’s the same as it is at home, you just have to feed the machines.” He turned to look at Betty and narrowed his eyes. She seemed more than happy to hide her broad smile behind her teacup. “Although they have been known to be a bit hungry when I’m around.”

  Betty tsked at him, but her expression never soured. “Not my fault you drag in half the dust from the ranch with you.”

  Turning back, he found that the princess hadn’t moved an inch. She was watching the exchange between him and Mrs. Nakata.

  “If you need to make change for the machines, Betty can-”

  “I’ve never done this,” she interrupted him and then looked more than ashamed that she’d done it. “This,” she gestured at the machines along the wall and then dropped her gaze down to her makeshift sack.

  Betty made a noise that told him she understood, but he wasn’t going to tell his old friend that he’d been a step behind her.

  “Laundry?”

  Looking up at him through her chocolate brown bangs, the woman before him shrugged. “Basically. I mean, I know where the clothes go in, but we’ve always had a housekeeper after my mom- and I never had to…”

  Jesse didn’t know why he moved. The laundromat was Betty’s and he was just a customer, albeit a frequent one, but there he was, walking across the room with what he hoped was a confident stride.

  She didn’t say anything at all once he crossed the halfway mark between them and she didn’t shrink back from him when he came close enough to touch her.

  And there he was, suddenly standing close enough to wrap her up in his arms and she just stood there, looking up at him.

  “If you’d like,” he smiled at her, liking the flush of color that had appeared high in her cheeks, “I can show you how.”

  She sighed in relief and her shoulders dropped a little. Neither did anything to change his initial impression of her, she still looked like a princess to him. Even when he noticed she was wearing those white lace-up shoes instead of glass slippers. “I’d really like that. Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me,” he shrugged, “you look like you’ve had a long night.”

  Clapping a hand to the side of her face, she grimaced. “I look that bad, huh? Sorry. Oh!” She startled and looked out through the big glass window. “I have to run out and get my purse.” She took a step or two back and he had to hold off the instinctive push to follow her. “I’ll be right back.”

  When she darted toward the door, her gait was lighter and more energetic than it had been when she’d dragged herself through the front door.

  Before she made it to the cover of the building, Betty’s voice reached his ears. “Look at you, cowboy. I guess I can sit here and enjoy my tea,” she almost laughed at him. “Pretty, isn’t she?”

  He turned in time to see his fairy princess rush toward the door and push it open with a smile. “Okay, how do I do this?”

  There was something in the way she smiled and the look she gave him said she was ready for anything.

  As he smiled back at her, he felt a hard kick to his chest, something that reminded him of the last time he’d argued with their mule and got a headbutt for his troubles. He was out of his league with this woman, but he was also ready to make a fool of himself, as long as she kept smiling at him like that.

  He picked up her make-shift laundry bag and was surprised at how heavy it was. She had strength and beauty. If she turned out to be funny, he just might fall at her feet.

  “Come on,” he told her with a slow smile, “let me show you.”

  Chapter Three

  JESSE

  Sitting at the counter with Betty and Henrietta, Jesse shook his head as the two laughed at him.

  “Okay, okay,” he held up his hands in surrender, “can we move on?”

  Betty shook her head and he once again marveled at how every curl on her head stayed artfully still.

  “Hardly. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on your face.” Taking a sip of her tea, Betty’s eyes were glittering with humor. “I didn’t know you could blush, Jesse.”

  Reaching up a hand, he tugged at the collar of his shirt. “I’m human.”

  Henrietta shifted on her chair. “Well, I won’t forget that moment either.” Jesse turned to look at her and saw her staring into her cup. “It’s not what I imagined my first time would be like.”

  First time? Jesse was sure he was missing something.

  “The first time a man has his hands on my underwear and it’s only to show me how to wash it. Not exactly a romantic moment.” She laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, it’s been a really long day and I feel like I’m making a complete fool of myself.”

  Before he could think of something to say, anything really, Betty was there, adding her gentle nature back into the mix. “Nothing wrong with getting a little help now and then.” Tilting her head in Jesse’s direction she smiled. “I taught him and he taught you.”

  Henrietta managed a smile. “Thanks again, Jesse. You must think I’m… I don’t know what you’d think.” Gesturing to the machines behind her, she waved a vague pattern in the air. “I guess I look pretty silly, walking into a laundromat in the middle of the night wearing a dress like this.”

  And what a dress it was. Even under the fluorescent lights it seemed to glitter like magic. Pretty fanciful thoughts for a man who worked with dust suppressors and horses on a daily basis. He knew he had to say something, she shouldn’t worry about things like that. Little things.

  “Pretty? Definitely. But silly? Not really. I figure everyone starts somewhere. Some folks look down at help when it’s offered.”

  She laughed and then sobered. “You know, I think I understand that.” She looked at Betty and her smile slipped a little. “The reason I’m here is because I wanted to help. I wanted to be more than just the princess who helped cut ribbons for business events or stand beside the car for advertisements. I don’t even think my father really thinks I can do the job as well as a real model, but I come cheap. That’s usually his biggest concern. Save money and make money.”

  “What did you want to do to help him?”

  Betty’s soft voice always had that motherly tone to it. Add to that her gentle eyes and she could probably get anyone to spill the beans about anything.

  “He has a bunch of different businesses. ‘Diversify and you’ll never suffer too badly at the hands of the economy.’” Shaking her head caused a few strands of hair to pull free near her ears. “Grocery stores, a car dealership, and a… a dry cleaner.”

  He knew that she’d seen a look pass between himself and Betty.

  “No, wait,” she laughed and flattened her palms against the table, “I know it sounds weird, but I could help at the dry cleaners. He’d drop me off while he was visiting with people in the surrounding area, talking up his business and Mr. Rojas would let me work the counter while I was there. I’d check in
garments and write up the tickets. For those picking up their clothes, I’d find it on the rack, bring it up, and ring up the fee.”

  He could see the smile on Henrietta’s lips and the mischievous glint in her eye.

  “After the first few times I did it, Mr. Rojas didn’t even double check the change I gave back to the customers.”

  “How old were you?” Betty’s voice was full of curiosity.

  A rosy blush rose in Henrietta’s cheeks. “I was eight. It was right after my mom passed away and my father didn’t want to bother with babysitters. It was easier for him to drop me off with Mister Rojas and tell me to mind him and stay out of the way.”

  “Stay out of the way?” Jesse shook his head and got up from his chair. “Sounds like you were itching to get into some trouble.”

  Shrugging, Henrietta got up off the stool she’d been sitting on. “Maybe, but he did tell me to mind Mister Rojas and that’s what I was doing. He saw me sitting there, bored and asked me if I wanted to do something to pass the time. He’d offered to get me a book or a magazine from the store across the street, but I told him I wanted to help.”

  “And he put you to work.” Jesse nodded, surprised and satisfied at the answer as he moved toward one of the dryers against the wall. “Sounds like both of you weren’t worried about getting in trouble with your father.”

  “I think I was just happy to be doing something.” He heard her sigh as she walked over to him, rolling an empty basket along with her. “Sometimes it felt like my father was gone for hours. So, it was either do something or go stir crazy. I’m pretty sure that’s what Mister Rojas was trying to avoid. For both of us.”

  The door of the dryer swung open and Jesse kept it from getting anywhere near her as he took hold of the cart. “Thanks.”

  “Happy to help.”

  There was a bit of a laugh in her tone and he added to it with a chuckle of his own. “Did your father ever figure it out? What you were doing when he left you at the shop?”