Shoe Strings

She
shrugged and, when Jesse turned to get more peppers from the sink, commandeered
the knife and began cutting.  
    “You don’t have to do that, Angelita.”
    “I know, but I like to cook.”   It would keep her hands busy. Her
fingers itched to touch him, the soft cashmere of his sweater, the wavy ends of
his hair, the smooth skin of his cheek.   It was the first time she’d seen him freshly shaved and she wanted to
feel the gentle glide of soft skin over soft skin.  
    They shared lingering looks over the sizzle of meat on his
island stovetop, laughs over the bar where she perched to watch him cook.   The meal was simple and prepared to
perfection.   There was something
about a complicated man cooking a simple meal for a woman, a woman who intended
to end their complications after this one last night together.   She savored the food just as she savored
each moment in his presence.
    The house was his grandmother’s, his mother’s mother, he
explained over dinner.   Jesse was a
man who adored his mother and having lost her hung heavy on his shoulders.   It was her death, Lita now knew, that
drew him away from home as much as the dissolution of his marriage all those
years ago.
    With every moment, she fell more and more in love with him,
with the idea of spending time with him and becoming a part of his life.  
    “It’s a big house for just you and Ty,” she said over a
confessed store-bought cheesecake.   “Ever consider something smaller?”
    “Never.”   He took
a sip of coffee, locked his hazel eyes on hers.   “I want to fill it, every room, with
children.”
    She felt the painful stab to her heart and twisted the knife
herself by asking, “How many bedrooms?”  
    “Four.”
    “So you want three more kids?”
    “Or two, depending on whether or not Ty’s still living
here.”
    She couldn’t take the look he sent her and the hint of a
promise in his eyes.   “I’ll do the
dishes.”   She stood to clear away
the plates.
    ***
    Angelita bolted up from the table and Jesse couldn’t help
but notice the shake in her hands as she reached for his plate.   He’d spooked her; he could tell from her
jittery reaction to his proclamation of wanting more children.   A house full.   Well, as he’d already pictured a
daughter with his adventurous spirit and her bouncing curls, she’d have to get
used to the idea.  
    He’d wanted her here, in his house, in his bed, from the
moment he’d come out of the bathroom in her cabin and seen her standing there
like a vision.   But she was real and
he knew his need for her was more than the physical pull that excited him, more
than the dizzying tug he felt on his heart when she was near.   Could he feel this way about someone so
soon, to the point where it consumed him?   He’d been consumed before, consumed with getting away, being on his own,
facing his mistakes, building his relationships and his business.   But this consumption required more than
just his own grit and perseverance.   It required Angelita, the only woman who’d ever made him think of
permanence and children and forever.  
    He picked up their glasses and walked into the kitchen where
she stood rinsing the dishes.   “What
are you thinking?” he asked as she watched the water swirl in the sink.  
    She flicked off the spout and smiled, although it didn’t
come close to touching her eyes.   “I
was just thinking about how quickly things happened between us.   How short a time I’ve known you.”
    “You know me.   You know my father, my son, my ex-wife.   You know about my past.   And I know you.”   He turned her in his arms.   “I know you had an unhappy
childhood.   You’ve got really good
friends and a thriving business of which you’re proud, and rightfully so.   We’ve both lost our mothers and I know
how much that hurts you.”
    “I never knew my mother, Jesse.   Our hurt isn’t the same.”
    “No, you’re right.   I knew my mother.   She was
real, she had flaws, although I don’t recall many. Never knowing your mom makes
her perfect in your mind and you miss her.”
    Lita walked to the French doors and looked out, her arms
wrapped tightly together.   “She had
one very big flaw.”
    Jesse walked behind her and wrapped his arms around
her.   The sorrow in her voice felt
like a presence in the room.   “What’s that?”
    Lita turned in his arms.   “She didn’t come back for me.   She never fought for me, fought to have
me.