A crow cawed from the sugar maple right outside Jesse's window, announcing the coming of Saturday's sun. Jesse had watched its ascent through the tired and burning eyes of a sleepless night. He got out of bed, showered, and dressed then checked on Sylvester, who snored peacefully in his adjustable bed. Jesse envied the old man’s ability to shut out the world, despite all the mistakes he’d made over the years. Once upon a time, Jesse had slept despite all his own sins. Now that he cared, sleep wouldn’t come.
He made a pot of coffee, poured a cup and drifted onto the back porch, where he sat to watch the sun climb over the trees. Low-hanging morning fog drifted across the pond, allowing glimpses of the dock. Leigh had been sitting there just a few hours ago. He could imagine her there now, curly hair with its coppery sheen hanging past her bare shoulders, eyes closed, feet skimming the water. She’d looked so at peace, like she could have sat there forever.
And then he had kissed her and broke the spell. Stupid. He thought she wanted it as much as he did, but then he’d gone too far and scared her. Was it her reluctance to have a relationship with a client that kept her away? That, he could almost understand. Or had his reputation tainted him too much for her to trust him? Acknowledging that possibility required too much mental effort for his sleep-deprived brain.
Jesse went back inside to make breakfast for himself and Sylvester. As expected, the smell of bacon frying revived the old man. He shuffled into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, added a hefty dose of cream and sugar, then sat in a chair at the kitchen island.
“What’s eatin’ ya, son?” Sylvester asked.
“Nothing, why?”
“I ain’t lived on the downslope of life without learning a thing or two. I could hear ya up and down last night and up early this morning. You’ve got a droopy hound dog look on ya, too. Now, what’s eatin’ ya?”
Jesse plated up the bacon, eggs, and toast and brought it to the island. He stood on the other side with his own plate, too keyed up to sit down. Sylvester wasn’t one to probe into his personal life, so this inquiry felt a lot like a session with Leigh. Might as well get some practice. He had no idea what he would say to her at his next appointment, or even if there would be a next appointment. She might have decided to cancel the rest.
“You know that woman who was here yesterday?” Jesse said, poking at eggs that no longer looked appetizing.
“Yeah, she’s clever. I hope you’ll bring her back. I like her.”
“That’s the thing. I like her, too.”
“I knew you did. I could tell by that lovey-dovey look in your eyes when she was here. Oh, the kissin’ of course. What happened?”
“She was there on the dock when I got home, which I thought meant... I don't know what I thought. But I showed her how to fish.”
“That sounds nice. Did she catch one?” Sylvester scooped up some eggs with his fork.
“Yeah. But then I kissed her and scared her off.”
Sylvester’s fork froze midway to his mouth. “Did y’all get frisky?”
“No, and I wouldn't tell you about it if I did. Anyway, she told me she wasn't the kind of girl I needed.”
"What'd she mean by that?"
"I wish I knew. But she's too good for me anyway."
“Bullshit! You're as good a man as I know." Sylvester finally ate his eggs and wrinkled his nose. “Needs salt.”
“You don’t need salt.”
Sylvester dropped his fork on his plate, frowning at his breakfast. He picked up his coffee mug and drained it dry. “Son, I think she likes ya. But she’s probably got some hurt she can’t get over. That’s how it was with your mamaw. She got knocked up when she was about sixteen.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. “I never knew that.”
“Yeah, that was before I met her. Her family disowned her, and she had to go live in a halfway house and work for her keep. Then she lost the baby. I met her about a year after that and married her the next year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“It wasn’t my story to tell. But I’m telling you now because you’re in love with a young lady who’s probably got a hurt like your mamaw and also because your mamaw ain’t here to shut me up.”
Jesse chuckled. He refreshed Sylvester’s coffee then leaned on the island with his elbows. “How did you gain her trust?”
“It took time, and I did things for her that made her feel loved, see? I’d listen when she’d say she liked a dress in a store window or when she’d bring up something she wanted to do, like seeing the ocean for the first time. Then I did my best to give it to her. I wasn’t always the best husband, especially later on, but that’s what won her over. She needed someone to show her that she was loved her because she’d felt so alone.”
Jesse didn’t know what to say to that. “I’ve never heard you talk about anything that personal before. Did you take the wrong medication or something?”
“No, son. I’d just like to see you happy before the old ticker gives out. You were always a good kid, even when you didn’t act like one. I wasn’t the best at raisin’ ya, so I want to make it up to ya.”
“Sounds like both of us are working on starting over.”
Sylvester shrugged. “Too late for me to do much more, but it’s not too late for you.”
Jesse nodded. While Sylvester was in a confessing sort of mood, it might be a good time to cross number five off his list. "Speaking of, I'm sorry for giving you so much trouble as a kid. You were still missing Mamaw, and all I did was raise hell and make things worse for you."
Sylvester sat quiet for a minute then reached across the island and squeezed Jesse's hand. "You did raise some hell, but I never blamed you for that. If anyone was to blame, it was me. I wasn't a good father to your mama and well, you know how she ended up. But thank you, son. You treat me real good, better than an old coot like me deserves."
Later, after lunch, Jesse got Sylvester settled in the den with a glass of iced tea and some football on TV. He didn't know what he could do for Leigh to win her over. She didn't seem like the kind who would fall in love with him just because he bought her a dress.
The only thing he knew to do was to work on finishing his list. Maybe Leigh would be at least a little happy to see he wasn't a quitter. Only a few names were left, though he could have probably added more. Marge Sandusky was one of them. She’d been so upset just seeing him at the doctor’s office, he had no idea how he’d get through to her. He was tempted to donate to a charity or something instead like Leigh suggested, but he didn’t want to take the easy route yet.
There was one thing he could offer Marge, but it would take a phone call to number one on his list and a maybe a bribe. If it fell through, he was back to square one with her. He dialed the number.
“Mann Cakes. This is Garrett. What can I cook up for you?”
“Hey, it’s Jesse.”
A few seconds of silence passed before Garrett replied with a leery, “Yeah, what’s up?”
****
As soon as the deal was made, Jesse breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up Marge’s number in the phone book and dialed it. She answered after the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Marge, this is Jesse Maddox. I was wondering if—”
Click.
Well, shit. There went that idea. No, he had to do better than that. He dialed again, but it rang until her answering machine picked up. He waited for the beep, hesitated, then recorded his message before he changed his mind.
“Hi, Marge, it’s Jesse. I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, but I do owe you more than an apology for the way I treated you back then. I want to make it up to you. So, I’d like to take you to a cooking class tonight at Mann Cakes, on me. It starts at six thirty. I can pick you up and bring you home, no strings attached. If you like the class, I’ll get you a year’s worth of classes. It’s up to you whether you accept or not, but—”
He heard a click, thinking she’d turned off the machine. He was about to hang up when her shaky voice came over the line.
“Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
“I’d like to… Could I take you up on that offer?”
Holy shit! It worked. He tried not to sound too excited. “Yeah, of course. I can pick you up. Is six fifteen okay?”
“Yes, I’ll be ready.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
“And Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.”