Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
W hen I opened our front door the next day, it was to a frigid morning and Jesse sitting calmly on a camp stool with a mug of coffee.
He jumped up when he saw me and reached for a big to-go cup of steaming Starbucks coffee beside him.
“I already got you your favorite so you don’t have to stop. A London Fog for you, m’lady.”
He handed it to me pinky-up, like he always had, with a smile twitching at his face.
I had heard the same teasing joke so many times and it always made me laugh, so I wasn’t able to stop my lips from curving up.
So he didn’t get the wrong idea, I bent and took a sip of my drink. It had been made with lavender syrup, just like I always asked for.
When I looked up he was down on one knee again, and this time the little box was popped open so I could see the ring.
Choking on my drink, I could barely believe my eyes.
It was absolutely massive, just an enormous damn rock in there, a pear-shaped monstrosity sparkling up at me like the opening of some pirate’s loot.
“I love you,” my ex said. “And I want to marry you.”
I dragged my eyes away from the ring to look at his face—craggy with stubble now.
“If you love me so much, why did you break up with me? Why would I trust you won’t do the same damn thing if I took you back?”
He flushed.
“It’s so shitty and stupid that it’s embarrassing. After I got signed, all the guys were talking about what I’d get now. Like I could buy a mansion, tons of sports cars, designer everything. And of course, I could get any pussy I wanted.”
His voice trailed off.
“And I was so fucking fat-headed after getting signed that I broke up with you and I got any pussy I wanted and started dating Taylor too. And then. . .it wasn’t what I thought.”
“What a heart-rending cautionary tale,” I said caustically. “I wonder how much pussy it took for you to finally decide you were bored and would rather go back to the girl who penned your dentist appointments in the calendar because you always forgot.”
“No, Josie!” he cried in a panic. “It’s not like that! It’s you I miss. And it’s all because of you that I made it to the NHL. I never could have without your support.”
But I was already moving down the steps.
“Go to practice, Jesse,” I said.
“I’m going to keep asking you,” he called after me. “Again and again.”
“I hope you saved the receipt,” I yelled back at him, then walked to work wishing I had just kicked the coffee cup from his hand and gotten it myself.
When I arrived at school, I was hoping for at least eight or nine hours of not thinking about my ex.
But alas, it was not to be.
I headed for our crappy copier in the Teacher’s Lounge to get some math sheets ready, when Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Macduff both ambushed me, their faces split in ear-to-ear grins.
“Josephine, you will never guess what happened!” Mr. Macduff caroled.
“Josephine, you have never seen such a beauty!” Mr. Montgomery cried at the same time.
Then they both moved aside and gestured like old-timey circus ringmasters.
And my eyes beheld the astonishing sight of a brand-new copier, shining in the fluorescent lighting like the Holy Grail.
“What—how?” I almost shrieked with glee, running over to touch the machine to make sure it was real. The district was so tight-fisted they never let us have luxuries like working equipment.
“Finally, copies that come out right!”
“And that’s not all,” Mr. Macduff chortled. “Look! All new school laptops for the kids! Every teacher’s wish list filled. A new playground!”
“And,” Mr. Montgomery added, “enough funding for another 5 th grade teacher next year so our class sizes can be smaller!”
I gasped with the decadent, rich pleasure of potentially having 20 instead of 25 or 30 in a classroom.
This was a funding bonanza so huge I’d never seen anything like it in my life.
We weren’t one of the big fancy schools, we were powered by heart and dedication, and how had we managed to get on any big donor’s radar. . .
My co-principals were high-fiving on getting funding for an art and dance teacher when I realized the obvious.
It should have been my first thought.
“Who donated this?”
Mr. Macduff looked down at his fax, which was crumpled in his hand.
“It looks like. . . why, who is this? Jesse Wi?niewski ? Why, the man is a saint! I don’t know how we got on his radar, but praise be to every goddess in the sky that we did!”
“A stone-cold saint!” Mr. Montgomery agreed, rubbing his hands together.
They bounced off happily to spread the good news to the other teachers and I remained looking at the copier, running my hands absently over its shiny perfect surface.
I wanted to cry over its perfect whirling gears.
This would mean so much to the kids and the teachers. A potentially life-changing amount of resources and support for at-risk kids.
My stomach was churning when I headed home.
I had to say thank you. Not that it meant I would get back with him, but I was so grateful.
As I got closer, I saw Dad on the front stoop with his karaoke microphone and Jesse on his hands and knees scrubbing the brick walkway with a toothbrush.
Dad’s off-key falsetto rendition of ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman,’ accompanied by the howlings of Watson, must be some kind of advanced torture technique.
“If he’s going to be hanging around like a bum, he might as well make himself useful,” Dad said as Watson rushed down the steps to greet me, rubbing his shaggy head all over my silk trousers.
The window opened and Mike looked out, his mouth full.
“If you think you can get around my sister with Polish desserts, you’re fucking mistaken,” he said, spraying pastry crumbs everywhere.
“I made Karpatka,” Jesse said, referencing the pastry filled with rich creamy custard that was my favorite. “You better save some for her.”
When Dad brought his old bugle out from behind his back, I waved them all inside.
“Enough, you jokers, I want to talk to Jesse.”
“Make him suffer!” Mike advised sternly before shutting the window.
“See,” Jesse said, stretching to his full height. “I’m hoping if I suffer enough, they’ll forgive me.”
“I’m not here to talk about you and me,” I said.
“Whatever you want to talk about, I’m here for it,” he said, leaning back against the railing near me.
My skin began to feel itchy and overheated. He always barely dressed for the winter, and the way his sweatshirt was rolled up over his big forearms made me tighten my hands firmly in my pockets.
“Thank you,” I said stiffly. “For your generous gift to Elmsweep.”
He turned to look at me.
“You supported my career for a long time, Josie. Now I want to support you. What else can I do to help?”
I should have said nothing, should have emphasized that we would never get back together.
“We aren’t the only school in town,” I replied.
“Whatever you want, baby,” he said, grinning that killer smile at me. “It’ll be done tomorrow. All the schools. I don’t give a shit about my money without you. I thought I did, but without you it’s all meaningless. All this fucking money and a condo in the fancy fucking rich shithead part of town doesn’t matter if you aren’t there with me. And goals on the ice aren’t the same if I can’t look over and see you cheering for me.”
“Watson, attack!” I said, because I didn’t know what else to do.
I couldn’t process what he was offering to do for me.
Our disgraceful St Bernard only howled again and then licked Jesse’s face, a big wet slobbery tongue bath.
“Watson, come away from that man!” I said sternly. “I changed my mind. I don’t want you associating with him. He’s a bad influence.”
“Josie, please—” Jesse said, his voice cracking, but I turned my back on him and we went inside.
I wondered what would discourage him, but Jesse camped outside the whole rest of the week, except for when he went to practices and games and to bake a new Polish dessert as an apology.
I tried my best to ignore him, but goddamn, it was hard not to question whether he fucking meant it or not when I’d walk up the steps to flakes swirling around me and he was scraping off the steps, wiping down the garbage cans, or eating a sad little can of soup.
And my family didn’t make it easy on him.
Mike built the fire to inferno heat in the living room and taunted Jesse with it.
My mother refused to eat his desserts.
Dad came out with increasingly outlandish chores for him to do.
Then one night I had gone to bed early and woken at midnight to glance at the temperature.
It must be 20 degrees below freezing.
Oh, fuck.
This fool was going to get himself killed.
I remembered one time when we had gone camping in college and of course hadn’t prepared properly. It had been so cold that night that Jesse had peeled off every stitch of clothing and forced me to wear it, wrapping his huge body around me to keep me warm.
“You’re going to freeze your dick off!” I protested through chattering teeth.
“I don’t care,” he said, my face so tightly pressed against his chest that I felt the strong thump of his heartbeat on my ear. “As long as you’re warm.”
Now I slid out of bed, and grabbed a pair of old sweatpants, shoving my feet into slippers.
Apparently the rest of my family was perfectly happy to let him freeze, but I just couldn’t do it.
I went downstairs, listening to Dad and Watson’s dueling snores. Since of course Watson always slept in their bed Mom basically had surround sound.
Then I carefully opened the front door. It was cold as fuck outside, and I watched a few snowflakes drift down. Apparently we were supposed to get several inches sometime next weekend.
“Jesse?” I hissed, then louder. “Jesse! If you keep me waiting any longer I swear I’m going to go back inside.”
I gripped my arms tighter, feeling my belly clench as his tent zipper rolled down, and then Jesse was there, a big knit cap on his head and wearing a huge parka.
“Just come inside,” I said. “And stop wearing that hat. I knitted it for you when we were together.”
“I know you did,” he said. “I kept it. I kept everything.”
I closed the door behind us.
“You can sleep on the couch,” I said. “Let me just go upstairs and grab some extra blankets.”
He followed me, of course.
I stumbled over my big fluffy slippers on the way up the stairs, and his hand was immediately on my elbow to steady me, his other on my waist to make sure I didn’t pitch forward onto my face.
“Are you all right? Wouldn’t want you to dislocate your finger.”
It was such a teasing tone, and his hands felt so familiar that for a moment desire for him almost drowned me.
The way my big T-shirt had ridden up, the way the tips of two of his big fingers were tightened on my overheated skin.
“Those aren’t our jokes anymore,” I said breathlessly. “We don’t have inside jokes anymore because you broke up with me.”
He groaned, pulling me closer so that I felt the huge broad width of his chest against my back.
“Please. I was so stupid. I’m so sorry. I would do anything to get you back.”
One big hand stretched across my stomach, and I could have screamed with the familiarity of his big hand on my soft belly.
“Maybe you can go back in time and make a different fucking move, then,” I said. “Those are my terms.”
He moaned again as I crossed my arms across my chest, tightening my fingers so I didn’t do anything stupid. Like lean back into him.
“Please. You don’t know how I crave you, baby. I can’t stop thinking about getting you back. About everything I stupidly gave up. You’re so hot, and your body is incredible. It’s driving me fucking crazy being so close but not able to touch you.”
His arm was under my breasts and he sucked in his breath as I shifted so the full weight of them was on his skin.
“I’m begging, Josie. Begging.”
I felt his breath on my neck, rustling my long hair, and when I didn’t say anything, he bent to kiss my back, gasping as his lips hit my flesh.
“Please, oh my god you taste so good.”
Each touch of his lips felt like a brand on my skin, burning, spreading a wave of heat and lust through my body.
“But I was told you can get any pussy you want,” I said, and I marveled at how steady my voice was.
“Who gives a fuck? I only want you,” he rumbled, and I felt his voice all down my spine, his thick cock burning my thigh.
“Let me go,” I said.
He did with a low note of pain, and I scampered quickly up the rest of the steps and into my bedroom.
“Just sit on the bed,” I said sharply. “We aren’t having sex. Just sit there and I’ll bring you a blanket.”
But when I got back, he was sitting on my bed holding a stuffed otter. An otter I thought I had hidden very well.
“Why are you going through my closet, you asshole?” I said hotly, snatching it away from him.
Jesse looked up and I saw tears glistening in his eyes. His massive hands looked strangely empty suddenly without the stuffed animal there.
“I remember that day we went to the aquarium. Watching your face when you got to feed the otters was the best thing ever.”
“I remember that day too,” I said. “Back when I thought you were the only man in the world I could trust with my heart.”
Jesse looked up and I saw he was shaking.
“I fucked up, didn’t I, Josie?”
I didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah. Yes, you did, Jesse.”
He put his head in his hands and began to cry.
And real fucking tears, leaking down his cheeks and between his fingers.
The room was quiet except for low sound of him sobbing.
“Shit,” he said, and his voice sounded shaky. “I’m a fucking mess.”
“Go home,” I said, for what felt like the hundredth time.
“No,” he said. “I’m going to stay here until you believe me that I’m committed to you. I want to marry you. I know I don’t want any other woman as long as I live.”
“You had your chance,” I said.
Then Jesse was on his knees, gripping me around the waist in a hug so tight it took my breath away.
“No! Please, baby!”
He pressed his head against my stomach, his gold hair standing out against the gray of my shirt.
“This is ridiculous,” I said sternly. “This is not going to work.”
“Nothing was right without you,” he said, his voice sounding muffled from how hard he was pressed against my belly. “Everything was shit. It sucked. I can’t live without you.”
“You should have thought of that before you broke up with me.”
I crossed my arms across my chest, very unwilling to think about how warm and strong his arms felt around me, how they’d always felt around me.
“I was an idiot,” Jesse said, his voice cracking. “I thought I needed to be some kind of fucking big man, but it was the stupidest, most arrogant mistake of my life.”
“So your little plan to upgrade didn’t work, and now you’re crawling back?” I asked caustically, trying to pry his arms off me.
It was no use. Jesse was built like a fucking brick wall, massive shoulders and thick arms holding me tight, his broad chest clutching me so tightly I could feel his ragged breathing all through my legs.
“Yes,” he groaned. “I’ll crawl on a bed of nails, I’ll beg on the fucking floor. Just please. Say you’ll give me another chance.”
I let the silence stretch between us.
“ No . And I don’t need you anymore. I have Bryan to fulfill any sexual needs I have, unless of course I decide to keep going out with Karel.”
“Please no,” he said brokenly, and I felt wet on my T-shirt, his tears soaking through the fabric and plastering it to my body.
“I know I look like a pitiful desperate mess, but for you I am. I am desperate for you and I don’t care who knows it. It can’t be over. It can’t be over, Josie. Please say there’s a little hope.”
My heart twisted inside me.
Was it true I had no feelings for Jesse?
No, the way my heart still fluttered in my chest was proof there was some part of me that still felt pulled toward him.
But
“I don’t think I can ever get over this,” I said. “There’s too much bad history. I’d rather start out a relationship with a fresh start and no bitterness. Now take these blankets and go downstairs. And be sure to leave before Mike wakes up, or he might dump the fireplace coals on you.”