Chapter 13 #2
I continue, “But someone you stole from might want to press charges. And it would be their right. So, what we’re going to do is drive you to the places where you took things.
It will be up to each person or business to decide what they want to do.
If no one wants to push the issue, we’ll take you home.
But you have to promise us here and now that you’re going to stop playing Robin Hood. ”
“That’s exactly what I told myself,” he says. “I said, ‘Cooter, you’re a regular Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to bless the poor.’”
Alex stifles a laugh.
“No more of that, though,” I reiterate to make myself clear. “From here on out, if you want to participate in charity, you donate from your own resources, you got me?”
“I hear you, Jesse. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know you didn’t,” I tell him. “But you do know better, so I know you’ll do better.”
We escort Cooter to my car, and he ducks into the back seat.
“You didn’t even drive the patrol car out here?” he asks.
“We were undercover,” I tell him.
He nods. I put the car in drive and pull away. “You can come back for your truck later.”
“I’m not worried about it,” he says.
We ride in silence for a little while, and then Cooter speaks up. “You know, sometimes people get too wrapped up in themselves.” He lets that thought hang in the air with no further explanation.
Maybe a minute or so passes and he says, “It’s the holidays, but all people are thinking about is errands and parties and what they want to get from the people they love.
” He shakes his head and looks me dead in the eyes in the rearview.
“I thought the holidays was the time of year when we was supposed to think of others most. Seems like folks have all but forgotten the real meaning of Christmas.”
Not one of us speaks after that. A reverent silence engulfs us. Cooter’s words hit like a sermon—one that lands right in the sternum and slowly finds its way into every corner of your heart.
“You’re not wrong,” I finally say into the darkness of the car.
“So, that’s all I was doing—just thinking of a widow when everyone else forgot about her.”
What do I say to that?
“That’s really sweet,” Alex says. “Also … illegal … but sweet.”
“I would’ve asked people to give me things,” Cooter says to Alex. “But people around here tend to avoid me on account of my drinking. And probably the way I end up sleeping in odd places. I didn’t think they’d give me anything, so I just took it.”
“That’s done now, though,” I add for good measure.
“Yeah. It’s done,” Cooter agrees. “I won’t take nothin’ that ain’t mine after this.”
We spend the rest of the evening escorting Cooter around to the homes of the people he stole from.
Each person, without exception, tells him they forgive him.
Not only that, most of them offer to give him more things to bless the Widow Simms. By the time we’ve made the rounds to all the homes and the Lutheran church, it’s nearly midnight.
No one wanted to press charges. We drop Cooter off at his pickup truck.
I walk him over to the truck while Alex sits in the passenger seat of my car with the heater still running.
“I already gave you enough warnings about this, but know that if there’s any more thefts, the next time won’t involve a guided tour of Bordeaux. Next time, I’ll have no choice but to arrest you.”
“I know that, Jesse,” Cooter says. “And I sure am sorry I put you and your girl through all the extra trouble.”
My girl. I’m about to correct him, but I stop myself.
“Drive safely,” I tell him.
“You too, Jesse.”
Cooter gets up into his truck and I walk over to my car.
“Everything okay?” Alex asks once I’m back in the car.
“Yeah. I think so.”
I start to turn the key, but then I stop myself. “I was about to say something when Cooter showed up.”
“About the alley?” she says.
“Yes. About the alley.” I clear my throat. “I like you, Alex—a lot. And I …” I drag my hand down my face. My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest.
I open my mouth to try again. But before I’m able to get another word out, Alex is in my arms, kissing me.
It takes me a moment to realize what’s going on.
She threads her fingers into my hair and pulls me closer, her lips warm and sure against mine.
I inhale her—cinnamon, winter air, something entirely her—and kiss her like I’ve been holding my breath since the night we met, running my hand down her hair, tugging her closer, peppering kisses on her lips and then lingering as our mouths convey everything words could not.
She’s soft and warm and she tastes like tiramisu and pure bliss.
She leans back just the slightest. I can barely see anything, but her eyes shine through the darkness, crinkling at the edges with a smile that matches mine.
Puffs of our breath intertwine into the chill air.
I reach out, cupping Alex’s face. Her skin is soft and warm.
I run my thumb over her cheek, memorizing everything about this moment.
My voice is raspy with emotion. “You know you’re in violation of 2921.31 right now?”
She laughs. “Obstructing official police business?” Her laughter sends a ripple of heat through me.
“Yes. Namely, distracting an officer while he’s on duty.” I lean in and kiss her again—slower this time, with more confidence. We both want this. She’s right here with me, returning every movement, cupping her hand behind my head, running her fingers through my hair.
When I pull back Alex answers me. Her voice is raspy, but full of flirtation. “Are you going to arrest me, Officer Heinz?”
“I think I’ll let this one pass,” I say. “With community service.”
“Oh, what did you have in mind?” Her voice is playful.
“Why don’t I tell you over dinner?” I ask the question that's been burning inside me for weeks.
“We just had dinner,” she reminds me.
“I know. I was hoping to actually take you out. On a date.”
“I’d like that very much,” she says. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I was waiting for my moment. Probably since that first night. You made quite the impression on me.”
“And you’ve made quite the impression on me, Jesse.” Her voice is liquid warmth, soothing and inviting.
I cover my face, remembering the impression I made.
“Not that first night. Not the misguided arrest,” she says, reaching over and slowly prying my hands away from my eyes.
She stares at me, our fingers entwined. “You make an impression every day—your kindness and compassion, the way you handle conflict, your sense of humor, and your devotion to this town. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you. ”
“Thank you.” I’m not used to being complimented. I don’t know what else to say. Then I add, “You do realize you’re going to have to admit you’re dating me—people will talk.”
Her smile beams through the murky dimness of my car and she gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Well then,” she says. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”
And she does—leaning in and kissing me again. I lose myself in her kiss—in her, letting all my unspoken feelings spill into the way I hold her, the way our mouths dance in the darkness.
She pulls back, resting her forehead against mine.
Her breath is warm. Her voice is a whisper against my lips. “I choose you, Jesse.”
Something inside me breaks open in the gentlest way. I don’t have grand words. I don’t need them. Holding Alex heals something deep down in a lonely, shuttered, neglected part of my heart.
She chooses me.
I whisper softly, in a voice for her alone. “I choose you too.”