From The Dead (31 page)

“Gave up?”

“Gave up. Lost heart. Settled … Somewhere along the
line, I knew I would never have with Jada what I once had with
you.” Jesse felt the warmth of Caitlyn’s hand in his. He grazed his
fingers along hers. “The limited time you and I had together to
develop our relationship—even that was deeper than I ever thought
I’d find … or deserve.”

They stared out at the beautiful nothing before them.
Around them, insects hummed in unison, stopped for a while, then
continued, their voices an aural glow. Jesse ran his hand along
Caitlyn’s arm in a soft caress.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you remember
that night in Niagara Falls?”

“I do,” he whispered. He rested his head against
hers. “That was the night we made love.”

“It was my first time.”

“Mine too.” With a trace of embarrassment, Jesse
said, “I’m sorry your first time had to be in a convertible.”

“I wasn’t offended,” she replied. “We were eighteen.
We didn’t plan to spend the night in Canada, had only sixty dollars
between us—not enough for a hotel if we wanted gas for the trip
home.”

It was a night like this one: perfect stars glittered
across a translucent sky; the air cool and breathable; an absence
of foot traffic where their car sat. Neither Jesse nor Caitlyn had
visited Niagara Falls before, and the area’s small-town nuances
fascinated them. Although they had expected a metropolitan area,
instead they discovered a modest number of pedestrians who strolled
past a smatter of hotels and buildings a few stories high. Within
blocks, they found residential neighborhoods and kids who played
catch without a second thought that a few blocks away sat a natural
wonder, one for which tourists traveled from around the globe to
see.

While there, Jesse and Caitlyn had found a small park
in the vicinity. Though it had closed for the evening, somehow they
had found their way in and forgotten to leave.

“We were lucky no one caught us,” Caitlyn said.

“No one would have. They didn’t expect us to be
there.”

“We whispered the whole time. Just like tonight.”

On that evening in Canada, they had snuggled together
in the back seat of the top-down convertible, wrapped together
underneath a blanket, the one they had used for a picnic lunch
while en route. By that time in the evening, the park had fallen
silent, its shadows weightless and still.

They had felt so secure in each other’s arms, as
though the steeliest enemy couldn’t compete with their embrace.
They had lost themselves in the nuances: the heat of his palm as he
stroked her thigh, and the invigoration that he sensed ripple up
her spine when he kissed her. His moist, balmy breath as it swathed
her shoulders, and the pleasant contrast of perspiration that
cooled in the late-April air as they gasped for breath. Bound
inside the blanket, they made love against a backdrop of Niagara’s
roar, which emanated from an unseen horizon.

Afterward, in a mutual loss of innocence, Jesse and
Caitlyn had laid there for hours, unclothed inside the blanket. For
them, the close proximity had reflected the intimacy of that spring
evening. Both Jesse and Caitlyn left that experience changed: On
that night, a bond had sealed between them. Though unplanned, their
coming together had proven one of destiny.

They never made love again after that night.

That was the night Caitlyn conceived Drew.

And tonight, enveloped in the Ohio summer air, Jesse
and Caitlyn found themselves in close proximity once again,
together yet apart.

They gazed into the depths of each other’s eyes and
spoke without words and without pretense.

“That was the night I fell in love with you,” he
whispered. “But it happened
before
we were together in the
park. It happened after dinner, as we walked past shops and
listened to conversations—half of them in English, half in French.
I could sense something in that moment—I knew I loved you. I wanted
us to have a language of our own, one in which only the two of us
were fluent.”

“We had one. It was unspoken, but it was there, like
a heartbeat.” Caitlyn studied her fingertips, rubbed them together,
and asked, “Jess, what’s happening between us?”

Jesse cuddled against her head and whispered, “What
do you
want
to happen between us?”

Caitlyn allowed the question to remain unanswered.
Instead, she leaned into him further and he cradled her in his
arms. They felt each other’s heartbeats, inhaled each other’s
breaths.

After a while, Jesse turned the key forward in the
ignition, on battery power but short of starting the engine. He
reached for the stereo and turned it on at low volume. The last CD
they had listened to began to spin: another Michelle Branch
CD—Caitlyn’s favorite. Jesse skipped to “It’s You,” and soon the
gentle pluck of an acoustic guitar filled the atmosphere.

With a tender smile, he nodded to the car door. “Come
on,” he invited.

“What?” she said, as if lulled from her personal
reverie.

“Trust me.”

They left the car from their respective sides and met
in front. With her hand in his, Jesse led her a few feet from the
car, where the song could still be heard. He placed his hands on
the small of her back. She placed one hand on his shoulder, the
other against his chest. To think how their lives had changed since
they had last done this.

Together they danced.

He rested his chin on the side of her head. He lay
his every exhale on her hair.

History seemed to cycle around again. They found
security in each other’s touch.

And in this moment, Jesse found himself falling in
love with her all over again.

CHAPTER 48

After work several weeks later, in early September,
Jesse pulled into Eden’s driveway. The Ohio skies pelted the ground
with a cold drizzle, its temperature too cool to stir a scent from
the wet asphalt. In this hint of autumn, a blustery wind whipped
around corners and licked the rain from Jesse’s cheeks. In Eden’s
front yard, her large apple tree yielded to the wind and dropped
unlucky yellow leaves to piles on the ground. Jesse made a mental
note to rake them that weekend.

From his pocket, his cell phone rang as he got out of
the car. He raced to the shelter of the front porch and answered.
As he peered out at the ashen environment, Jesse recoiled.

But not because of his surroundings.

“Are you still in Ohio?”
At the sound of Jada’s voice, a stunned Jesse didn’t know whether
to laugh or hang up without another word. He opted for a midpoint,
to let her say whatever she could possibly have to say to him. Her
connection sounded shabby and her voice swooshed in its volume, so
Jesse pictured her stuck idle in traffic. Was she bored?

“It’s been months,” he said. “Why are you calling
me?”

“A letter arrived for you at the apartment.”

“For me? When?”

“I don’t know, maybe June.”

“Three months ago? And you figured today is the
appropriate time to tell me?”

“The letter’s from the hospital. It doesn’t sound
positive.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, you’re not here, so I went ahead and opened
it.”

“You realize that’s against the law, don’t you?”

“Whatever. It says they contacted you by phone but
you didn’t return their calls. They have concerns about some
medical tests they did while you were in the hospital after your
brain fart that night.”

“You have a way with words.”

“By the way, Dale pulled some strings and got your
medical bills waived. He’s aligned with that hospital and convinced
them to classify you as indigent.”

“Tell him thanks.” As much as he hated to think of
the guy, Jesse had forgotten about bills and was grateful for the
gesture. Dr. Dale probably felt guilty for destroying Jada’s and
his relationship.

“When he heard you’d gone home to Ohio, he thought it
was the right decision on your part. He didn’t want you
distracted.”

More like Dr. Dale didn’t want a distraction to
return to L.A.,
Jesse thought, but at this point, Jesse didn’t
care. He wanted nothing Jada had to offer. “What a guy.”

“I showed the letter to him. He doesn’t think you
should fool around with this. He said it had to do with your blood,
like the tests didn’t look right, according to what the letter
said. He thinks you should call them or get some tests done right
away.”

Jesse’s mind filled with images of his recent—and
more frequent—symptoms. “I’m sure it’s no big deal.” No way would
he let Jada have the satisfaction of handing him medical
advice.

“All right, here’s the thing.” Jada lowered her voice
as if the CIA had bugged her apartment. “I’m not supposed to tell
you this; I was supposed to convince you based on the letter. Dale
swore me to secrecy because he could be in deep shit for doing
this. But like I said, that letter concerned him, so after he got
the hospital to waive the charges, he got access to your record
somehow and checked it out.” In her pause, Jesse could picture her
spying over each shoulder to decide whether to listen to the tiny
angel fairy or the tiny devil one. “They’re convinced you’ve got
some disease. A disease named after a bear, he told me.”

“You mean Baer’s Disease?”

“That’s it. Seriously, get it checked out.”

Jesse gritted his teeth and chose to cast it to the
back of his mind. After all, wasn’t Jada the embodiment of
exaggeration? A paper cut could send the woman into a rant. And
besides, his symptoms were commonplace. Plus, when he and Dale
talked outside Jesse’s apartment a while back, Dale had said he
doubted Jesse’s status was severe. Dale had mentioned it could mean
minor changes in Jesse’s diet and daily activity. Jesse knew Jada
well enough to take her perception of the threat—however
overblown—and dial it down a few degrees.

To change the subject, he said, “So I take it you and
Dr. Dale are one happy couple?”

“Shit, Jesse. Apparently he’s had second thoughts
about his marriage. He’s been fucking around on me. Moved out of
the apartment three weeks ago.”

What goes around,
Jesse thought.

“Anyway, I’m finally out of traffic, ready to pull up
to Barry’s office. Gotta go. But listen to what I said before,
about the tests.”

Jesse started to say good-bye but didn’t get the
chance to complete the gesture; Jada, who saw no reason to waste
time with such a formality, clipped the conversation to an end with
a disconnection.

CHAPTER 49

The basketball clanged against the rim before it
ricocheted and landed in Jesse’s expectant hands.

“Next time!” Chuck said, a failed attempt at dignity
after his own failed shot.

“Don’t worry, there won’t be one,” Jesse prodded.
With an eye on his opponent, he dribbled the ball casually along
the edge of Chuck’s driveway. One month since Jada’s phone call,
and Jesse felt fine. Not even a nosebleed in the last few
weeks.

Chuck began to perspire despite the early October
refrigeration. He unzipped his green windbreaker halfway and, hands
on knees, prepared himself for Jesse’s approach. The score was 15-6
with Chuck on the losing end.

Jesse switched hands and teased his father with a nod
of haughtiness. “I figured you would’ve gotten better after a
decade.”

“I’m a preacher. I believe in miracles.”

Jesse rounded his dad, managed to keep the ball in
his own possession, and sprinted up the driveway with Chuck close
behind. When Jesse leaped to make his two-point attempt, a
mischievous Chuck tapped Jesse’s elbow and the ball rolled out of
his hands. Chuck grabbed the ball and made his way to the
basket.

“Hey, whatever, old man!” Jesse shouted, his arms
outspread in humorous dispute. “I haven’t read the rule book line
by line, but I think your maneuver qualifies as a foul!”

Out of breath, Chuck feigned an air of innocence.
“What’d I do?”

Jesse grabbed the ball to take a penalty shot. “I’m
gonna make a shot here, so take good notes.” And with that, he sank
the ball in a perfect swish through the net. His nose cold, Jesse
stuck his hands in his pockets and allowed the ball to roll into
the grass. He’d gotten used to the cooler climate, albeit a slow
transition for him.

They laughed for a moment and allowed their hearts to
return to their regular paces. Before them, their breath clouded in
the evening air.

Chuck gave his son a playful slap on the back. He
stalled another moment and then softened his voice. “I know it
wasn’t easy for you to live your life between glass walls as a
minister’s kid,” he said. “After you left, I couldn’t help but
think I’d caused it.” Chuck watched as Jesse, quiet but attentive,
focused on a passing car. “I regret we weren’t closer in touch all
these years. And I don’t know all the details going on in your
heart …” Chuck lowered his head and examined a crack in the
pavement. “But I want you to know I’m sorry for anything I did to
drive you away.” Chuck’s eyes grew moist, and Jesse could tell
Chuck held more emotions inside. “I’m so glad to have you
home.”

Jesse scrutinized the same pavement crack. “You
didn’t cause it, despite all I’ve said. It was me: I had to figure
out who I was, and I couldn’t do it in someone else’s shadow.
That’s the best way to describe it.” Jesse picked up the ball and
gave it a halfhearted shot, then forgot about retrieving it.
“Life’s gotten clearer, though. Coming home was a positive
thing.”

They headed over to the front porch and sat on the
step, side by side.

“I agree,” Chuck said at last. “People seem to place
expectations on you to live your life the way I have and follow the
career I have.” He tilted his head so it was eye level with his
son. “I want you to know I’ve never expected you to be anything
you’re not designed to be. You need to be the man God created you
to be and follow whatever burns inside your heart.”