From The Dead (19 page)

CHAPTER 31

After dinner that evening, Jesse decided to take his
chances and show up at Caitlyn’s house unexpected. When they had
dated, she’d loved surprises. True, their hearts, once knit
together, had grown apart; but if Caitlyn remained the same girl
deep down, she might respond well to his overture. At the same
time, he realized he would need to earn her trust, to convince
Caitlyn that the Jesse who hadn’t wanted a baby could make a
permanent commitment to Drew’s life.

As Jesse approached the house, he found Drew outside,
where the boy shot a basketball at the hoop attached to the garage.
Drew didn’t run and dribble the ball; instead, he walked around
with it, bounced it a couple of times before he took his shot.
Based on the kid’s lack of technique, it was clear Drew possessed
limited experience.

Because the ball deflected from the rim with a loud
shudder, Drew didn’t hear Jesse approach. Jesse picked up the ball
when it rolled down the driveway. Drew noticed a figure approach
him, squinted in the post-dinner sunset and, at last, recognized
Jesse.

“Hey, Drew-man.” Jesse lobbed him the ball. “You’re
into basketball?”

Drew responded with a smile. “Not much. I try, but it
makes me tired. So I don’t do it often.” Again he dribbled the
ball, took a shot, and watched it deflect from the rim. Drew
snatched the ball on rebound. “I’m not too good at it anyway.”

“Here, let me give you a tip,” Jesse held his hands
out to catch the ball, which Drew tossed his way. Then Jesse took
position opposite the basket. “Plant your feet and keep your head
up, equal distance between your feet.” Then he held the ball above
his head. “Now, when you’re ready to take your shot, try to keep
your body in a straight line: your hand, your arm, elbow, knee, and
foot. See?” he said as he demonstrated the technique.

Jesse handed the ball to his son, who then emulated
the stance.

Drew made a stiff attempt to imitate Jesse. “Like
this?”

“Good job. You’re almost there: Your hands are in
good shape, but see those elbows? If they point out sideways, it’ll
hurt the path of the ball. So point them toward the basket.” He
nodded as Drew followed directions. “Now lean your arm back a tad,
so your elbows are angled to the hoop more than your wrists are.
Yeah, there you go.”

At the sound of a familiar male voice, Caitlyn
wandered out of the house and across the lawn. She stopped at the
edge of the driveway unnoticed since the guys, engrossed in their
activity, didn’t hear her approach. She watched but didn’t
interrupt their moment of bonding. Instead, Caitlyn crossed her
arms casually to enjoy this image of her son, aided by his father
for the first time in his life.

“Ready?” Drew asked.

“Go for it,” Jesse urged.

The swish of a basketball as it sinks through a net:
a quiet event—but in this setting, it sounded forth like a trumpet.
Drew’s face gleamed. Jesse let out a shout.

“You made it, Drew-man!”

After a congratulatory high-five, Jesse watched Drew
pump his fist with wide-eyed excitement.

Then Drew turned around and discovered another
witness. “Mom, wasn’t that awesome?”

Caitlyn giggled. She approached Drew and hugged him
close to her. “No other word to describe it. You’ve tried to figure
that out for so long. Did Jesse give you some tips?”

Drew nodded. “How’d you know all that?” he asked
Jesse. “Did you play?”

Nervous at the reminder of the past, Jesse twitched
when he caught Caitlyn’s gaze. Their eyes communicated, words
abandoned. Jesse returned to Drew’s question. “I played a bit in
high school.”

“Jesse’s modest,” Caitlyn piped in. “He was good at
it.”

“You two knew each other back then? Did you go to
school together?”

“No …” she said. Aware they had slipped up, Jesse
locked eyes with Caitlyn again. Her gaze grew pointed, as if to
instruct Jesse not to give an answer while she calculated damage
control that was true, yet vague.

“Then how’d you see him play?”

“We met at one of his games when he played at my
school.” Before Drew could ask further questions, she faked a slap
on her arm. “Honey, I think the mosquitoes are coming out. Why
don’t you go in and finish your homework?”

“Can I show Jesse my room?”

Caitlyn sighed. “Fine, go ahead. Make sure he doesn’t
stumble over anything on the floor.” She followed a few steps
behind, which allowed Jesse and Drew more time to connect. But
still she kept an eye on the nuances between the father and his
son.

Inside his bedroom, Drew led Jesse through the
highlights, which included a Scouting award he had earned a few
years back, some action figures arranged on a small desk, and his
backpack. And a picture of Drew and his mom. Not a father in
sight.

They ended with a tour of the posters that hung on
the wall. Thankful none of them depicted scenes from a movie, Jesse
listened while Drew commented on what he liked about each one.

Finally, Caitlyn cut in. “All right, finish your
homework. It’s eight o’clock.”

“Mom, not while Jesse’s here!”

“Don’t argue with me,” Caitlyn responded with a firm
tone.

Though he lacked eagerness for his homework, Drew
relented. He zipped his backpack open at the desk and muttered as
he retrieved a textbook. At first Jesse felt it awkward to behold
their tug-of-war; then again, he figured, Drew and Caitlyn must
have their share of headaches like any other parent and child.

Caitlyn and Jesse headed into the kitchen, where she
asked, “Was I too tough on him?”

“With the homework? Didn’t seem like it.”

Caitlyn released a slow exhale. “Sometimes I have no
idea where the balance is,” she said.

“Are you serious? You’re a good mom to him.”

“Yeah, well, I have my doubts. Half the time, I make
my best guess and then hope I don’t regret it later.”

Caitlyn started to rinse dishes in the sink and load
them into the dishwasher. She shot Jesse a look of frustration. “I
keep telling him to put these in the dishwasher when he’s finished
with them, but you know boys.” She grinned.

“Want me to help?”

She shook her head and peered through the open
window. “I started rinsing these before, but then I heard two
voices in the driveway.”

“I should have called first.”

“I suppose I don’t mind.”

Jesse watched her a second as she tucked a lock of
hair behind her ear. “Here, let me take care of that for you,” he
insisted. Jesse retrieved the plate from her and went to work while
she wiped down the counter. He sneaked a glance at her again. She
wore a black cable-knit top, which contrasted like salt and pepper
with her fair skin and hair. A remnant of lipstick remained on her
mouth. “Tired?” he asked.

“A long day. You?”

“Truth?”

She stopped and crossed her arms. “Truth.”

“I scrubbed toilets today.”

Caitlyn burst out with a laugh, and then waved it
off. “Why? Did you cause undue harm?”

Jesse loved to see her laugh. He remembered that
well. “I’m working for my dad for the time being. Maintenance at
the church.”

“I didn’t know you’re handy with tools.”

“Do I
look
like Mr. Fix-it? At least I’ll
figure out what those gigantic wrenches are used for.”

Caitlyn chuckled more. As he finished the last dish,
she caught a second glimpse of Jesse’s cheek, the same cheek
against which she used to cuddle her head. Then she wiped around
the sink and rinsed the dishrag.

Jesse wanted to linger here, to prolong this simple
moment. He sensed a mutual desire in Caitlyn as well. A piece of
Jesse still missed Caitlyn—and that piece took pleasure in her
presence tonight. This person who stood beside him wasn’t a blind
date or a little-known acquaintance. They knew—or once knew—each
other.

Caitlyn studied him again, the concentration in his
face.

When he closed the dishwasher and pivoted toward her,
she darted her face away.

“What you did for Drew tonight was sweet,” she
said.

“I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” Jesse replied,
then added, “He mentioned he gets tired when he runs with the
ball.”

“Lately he’s gotten worn out much sooner. It makes me
wonder, but it doesn’t happen often enough to have it checked out.”
She paused. “He’s a lot like you. He’s introspective, internalizes
his emotions. Worries about his mom and won’t let me convince him
not to. He’s approaching middle-school age, so the tiredness could
be suppressed stress taking its toll.”

Jesse turned and stared at Caitlyn’s face, searched,
tried to find something unspoken.

Caitlyn ran her fingers through her hair and looked
away at a random point, as though she struggled with whether to
speak. Then her eyes met his again. “He needs a male influence in
his life. And I can’t give him that.” She wrung her hands. Her
voice softened further. “I’ll let you take him out for an
afternoon, maybe a Sunday, but only if Drew is comfortable with the
idea.”

Warmth spread like an afterglow across Jesse’s
chest.

Caitlyn locked eyes with his. “But I’m trusting you
with him. So help me, if you get him in one inch of trouble—”

Jesse reached out and touched her arm. “I’ll take
care of him.” He leaned in. “I promise.”

Caitlyn didn’t brush his hand away from her arm. From
her reaction, or lack thereof, to his touch, Jesse supposed she
hadn’t been touched by a man in years.

And this touch, the delicate stroke of his thumb on
her bicep, just above her elbow—it wasn’t sensual, but rather a
hand of support. She had raised her son alone and must have
forgotten how such a gesture felt. With his tranquil breathing and
the calm composure in his hand, Jesse communicated compassion.

Indicators that, perhaps, he had changed.

Jesse admired the beauty of a smile that dimpled at
the corner of her mouth.

And her eyes. Her engaging blue eyes.

Time spoke through her eyes.

CHAPTER 32

The aroma of hickory emanated from the backyard
patio.

From one end of the grill, Jesse watched streams of
pallid smoke drift upward. Blake, his arm wrapped around Eden’s
waist, hovered from the other side. Eden nestled her head against
his chest as he drew her closer. Jesse grew amused as the couple
flirted, giggled together, lost in shared secrets.

It was early Saturday evening.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your chef has returned!” Chuck
called. He left the kitchen and slid the glass door shut behind
him. As a church pastor, he had hosted countless guests at his
house, which sat less than a mile from the church building. But
tonight’s dinner was a family affair.

In a swift motion, Eden craned her neck toward the
entrées as Chuck forked the slabs of meat onto the iron grid. “What
on earth are those things you picked up to barbecue?”

With a grin that seemed to suggest his mouth watered,
Chuck patted his belly. “They’re delicious. Pork steaks—haven’t had
them in so long.”

“Sounds awful.”

“Truth is, they remind me of my childhood.”

Blake scrutinized the steaks. “Would that be the
ragtime era?”

Chuck gave him a playful poke in the arm with the
blunt edge of the barbecue utensil. “When I was a kid, my dad took
me on a road trip.” He monitored the juice that beaded on the
meat’s surface. “We went to a Cardinals game in St. Louis—Cards
against the Cubs, eleven innings, Cards won five to four. After the
game, we stopped in a local bar for dinner and noticed half the
people ate pork steaks, the house specialty. So we tried ‘em
out—and it was love at first bite.” Chuck flipped the steaks over
to reveal the fat charred along the edges, but no harm done. “I
seldom see them anywhere, but found them at the store today.
Consider it an expansion of your borders.”

Amusement in her face, Eden remained skeptical and
turned toward her brother. “Hmm. What do you think of that?”

“Hey, you know me. I’m always ready to expand my
borders.”

Eden shook her head at Chuck. “If you make me sick on
these things, I’ll never forgive you,” she joshed. Then she grabbed
Blake by the arm and tugged him over to the glass-top patio table,
where the pair set out plates and plasticware. Blake mimed a fork
full of potato salad and waved it in front of Eden’s face. She
veered back in laughter and pecked him on the chin.

Jesse glanced over at them, then returned his
attention to his father. “What’s a party without the entertainment,
huh?” Jesse borrowed the cooking utensil to move the lesser-cooked
steaks to a hotter area on the grill.

Chuck eyed Eden and Blake as they traded jabs on
their own side of the world. He snickered at the sight. “They’re
always having fun. I like it when my kids are happy.”

“So he meets your approval?”

“Sure, he’s a good guy. And he’s sweet to her.” Chuck
brushed barbecue sauce onto the steaks, which crackled over the
flames. “Those two are much like your mom and me when we started
dating. We were even younger than they are.”

“Do you think Eden loves him?”

“I think so. She didn’t look for love, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Chuck pursed his lips and added a final touch of
sauce to the steaks, which Jesse turned over once again. “She never
considered dating a priority. Not as a high-school
kid—unfortunately, I didn’t have the pleasure of interrogating any
suitors. Even after college, she grew preoccupied with
larger-purpose things, work and so forth. After Blake came to
church five years ago, his life changed. A while after that, he and
Eden became friends. Poor guy; she was oblivious to his crush on
her—and I’m talking
years
.”