Shoe Strings

was quaint, the town of Sequoyah Falls.   As far as she could tell, downtown
catered to the mature crowd, with antique shops, hardware stores, and
diners.  
    Lita found the pizza restaurant Cal had recommended, the one
owned by Jesse’s ex-wife.   It sat
next to a used bookstore and music shop.   The adjacent boutique sported some relatively fashionable outfits in the
window and she made a mental note to check it out before heading back to the
cabin.
    She’d been designing all morning and the exhilaration of it,
the ideas that flooded her head, had worked up both her appetite and her sense
of adventure.   She’d even brought
along her sketchpad in case inspiration struck on her jaunt into town.   So she decided to check out the town,
eat a good meal, and satisfy her curiosity about the woman Jesse had been
married to for eight years.  
    She didn’t know why thoughts of him kept popping into her
head at all hours of the day and night.   It wasn’t like her to fixate on a man, any man, the way she seemed to be
with Cal’s son.   They’d been happy,
the three of them—Cal, Ellie, and Jesse.   If she hadn’t heard it in Cal’s voice,
she’d have known it from the multitude of pictures around the cabin.   In the hall was a picture of Jesse,
probably around ten, pulling a fish from the river, his light blond hair
hanging in his face.   His smile
beamed brighter than the sun.   The
den sported several framed school shots.   He’d enviously avoided the awkward years she’d struggled through.   His mother hugged him from behind in
another picture, her head slightly askew from the football helmet Jesse wore.
    It had to be Cal and her affinity for him because the brash
and outright offensive man she’d encountered the day before didn’t even
resemble the kind of man who’d fascinate her.   He was attractive, no question…and there
she went thinking about him again.   “Let it go, Lita,” she said to herself as she opened the screen door of
the Pizza Den.
    It smelled divine.   The yeasty dough and the pungent aroma of Italian sauces made Lita’s
mouth water.   She searched the
crowded restaurant for a quiet table where she could soak up the atmosphere and
indulge in one of her favorite foods.  
    Quiet was out of the question.   The brick walls, wide pine floors, and
high ceiling, coupled with the boisterous crowd, gave the place an energy not
suited for quiet.   The atmosphere
wasn’t off-putting, but fun.   Large
groups sat at long tables sharing pizzas and stories over pitchers of soft
drinks.   Coworkers dined together,
still sporting nametags and office attire.   The kitchen hummed behind a wall-length bar that gave Lita the
impression of lively evenings at the Pizza Den.  
    She found a small table for two tucked neatly against the
wall and set her sketchbook and purse on the adjoining chair so she could
peruse the menu.   She was just
deciding what topping to add to her slice when a—there was no other way
to describe him—tall, dark, and handsome man in a very nice suit knocked
the edge of her sketchbook causing it and her purse to crash to the floor.  
    “Oh my, I’m so sorry,” he said with a lazy drawl that had
images of wide front porches and sweet lemonade forming in Lita’s mind.   He bent down to retrieve the items that
had spilled out of her purse.
    Lita jumped up from the table and scrambled after the tampon
that rolled under her seat.   “It’s
okay, really.   I’ll get this stuff.”   She shoved everything back into the bag
and blushed as he handed over her birth control pills.   “Thanks.”
    “I’m really sorry, miss.”   He quickly glanced around the
restaurant.   “I’ll get Kerri Ann to
put your meal on my tab.”
    “Oh, that’s not necessary.   It was just an accident.”   Was Kerri Ann here? she wondered with a
quick look.   Humm, which one could
she be?
    “I don’t mind.”   He turned when the kitchen door swung open and a blond woman walked
out.   He twisted back to Lita with
an impatient smile.   “I really am
sorry…”
    “Angelita.   And
it’s no problem.   I need to clean it
out anyway.   It’s like a big, black
hole.”   She motioned to her
oversized bag.
    The man held out his hand for her to take.   “I’m Bryce.”
    “It’s nice to meet you, Bryce.”
    “Look,” he said and glanced back to the bar where the blond
looked to be restocking glasses.   “I
need to talk to someone, but I highly