you to back me up. I need you in my corner, or they’re going to put me away.”
Not that she found anything about the current situation the least bit funny, but for some reason, she chuckled. “Are we even married, Jack? I need to know because there seems to be some confusion about whether you and Patty ever even divorced.”
“I . . .”
With that, the front door flew open and Danny stormed in.
“I really need to know,” she cried as Danny pried Jack’s grip loose. “Jack, you owe me the truth. Were we ever married?”
Before he could answer, Danny sent him flying backward with one punch to his midsection, and he crumpled like a wadded piece of paper on the floor. While he groaned, Danny stepped in front of Jessie, acting as a barrier between them, leaving Jessie to peer around the slope of his muscular shoulder.
“Please,” she appealed to him. “Just tell me.”
Jack raked back his hair with both hands as he glared up at them. Just when she thought she might have to give up on getting a straight answer out of the complete stranger on her floor, he let out a grumbly sort of sigh.
“No,” he stated. “I never divorced Patty.”
Those four words swirled around in her ears until she could hardly stand them anymore.
“Thirteen years,” she muttered. “You let me believe we were married for thirteen years.”
She collapsed to the arm of the slightly used charcoal chenille sofa that had replaced the pale sage Tommy Bahama in their sham of a dream house, and she rubbed her forehead until it ached.
She hadn’t realized Jack made it to his feet again until he spoke. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I really need you to understa—”
“That’s enough,” Danny declared as he stomped toward Jack and grabbed his arm. “You need to leave.”
“So this is the new one, Jessie?”
She jerked her attention to Jack and dropped her hands to her lap. What did he mean? The new what?
“He’s not doing a very good job taking care of you. I mean, look around at this place. It’s a dump.”
“But it’s my dump,” she muttered. An assertive wave washed over her as she added, “And I don’t need anyone taking care of me. I can do that all by myself.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve been wobbling around on those two feet for . . . I’ve known you for how many years?”
“Zero,” she replied, popping up off the sofa and planting herself next to it. “You don’t know me at all. And heaven knows I’ve never really known you either.”
“Jessie, listen—”
“I’m through listening to you, Jack.”
“On your way,” she barely heard Danny tell him.
“Jessie, listen. They’re going to be hauling you in to talk to you about—”
“Am I not speaking English?” Danny chided. “Move it. Let’s go.”
Jessie didn’t turn around until she heard Danny struggling with the door and turn the deadbolts, one by one.
“We’ve got to get you a new door,” he said. “I’ll take care of that tomorrow.”
“No,” she blurted, rigid as she yelled at him. “I’m not your project, Danny. You don’t have to replace my door . . . or even break it down when the big, bad wolf comes knocking. Although in this case, I didn’t entirely mind that you did.”
He moved cautiously toward her and touched her arm, speaking in the softest, sweetest voice. “You’re okay, angel. He’s gone now.”
For some odd reason, it galled her that he seemed to know her so well. She wasn’t angry at him at all, and he instinctively knew it. She wondered if he also discerned the direction of her anger; toward Jack and the words he’d so callously spoken. She despised the truth lingering in what he’d said, hovering over the accusations of frailty and weakness like a pregnant storm cloud. Frowning, she turned away from Danny and sighed.
“You can go now,” she somehow managed to say without whimpering.
“Jessie . . .”
“Please go.”
With her back to him and her ears perked, she listened as he considered her words and sighed. His footsteps creaked over the floorboards—those dumb laminate floorboards—and he released a soft groan as he wrestled with the door.
“Lock this behind me.”
Several seconds ticked past, the high-pitched silence of her apartment screaming in Jessie’s ears. She finally fell limply into the corner of the sofa and brought her knees upward and hugged them. Just before the emotional tsunami crested.
* * *
Jessie never did take kindly to a light shinin’ up on her shortcomin’s. One of her school chums called her a “messy bess” one day, and the next afternoon she shows up at her grandpa’s place and tells me, “I can’t stay around today, Grampy. I have to go home and clean my bedroom.” Her mama said that little girl organized and dusted and cleaned her room spic ’n span that day. Re-shelved and alphabetized her Nancy Drew mystery books too. Her mama wanted to know what’d got into ’er. Even skipped supper to get ’er done. Just to prove that school chum wrong, I’m guessin’.
Since she popped outta her mama’s womb, my Jessie’s been fightin’ the odds against her. Most times, that’s a good thing. Gives her a target to aim her efforts t’ward. Other times though, I seen her rebel hard in the altogether wrong direction, just for the sake of goin’ agin the grain. Sure can make for a lotta unnecessary thrashin’ around. But my Jessie ain’t learned that lesson yet.
Hope she will someday.
Chapter 2
2
I can’t even believe you came in today.” Amber gingerly set down a cup of coffee on the desk in front of Jessie. “I’d still be reeling. Are you reeling?”
“A bit,” Jessie admitted with a sigh.
“I don’t blame you. What can I do? Can I get you something?”
Before Jessie had a chance to consider the offer—although she had no idea what she could request that little five-foot-four Amber could get for her—Piper stormed through the door to the miniscule office and crowded in with them.
“How did you know?” Jessie asked the instant she spotted the look of terror/concern on Piper’s face.
“Danny called me.”
“Of course he did.”
She knew it made little sense to anyone but herself; however, the lingering fuel of her resistance to his
