“I’m not used to seeing you out of uniform,” he said, smiling.
There was a brief moment of confusion on her face. Then, when she realized what Jesse meant, she smiled back at him.
“I do indeed own clothing that isn’t black or splattered with paint. Do your boxers have your badge number embroidered into them?”
“How did you know?”
She shook her head at him. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk. Can I come up?”
“This official business or some other kind of business?”
“A little of both, I guess.”
“Come on. Lock the door behind you.”
Jesse had been in Maryglenn’s place before, seen some of her work in progress, but those visits were during the madness surrounding the most violent incidents in Paradise since the assault on Stiles Island. This would be different on many levels. He knew it. She knew it, too. After scaling the stairs, Maryglenn pushed the door open and gestured for Jesse to go on in.
“Tea?” she asked, closing her apartment door behind him. “Coffee?”
“I just came from an AA meeting.”
She seemed to understand. “Lots of coffee and cigarette breaks.”
“Exactly. How do you know?”
There it was again, the smile disappearing just like at lunch. “Water?”
“Fine.”
Maryglenn dug a plastic bottle out of her fridge and handed it to Jesse. Their hands touched as she gave it to him, and there was a spark there. They both felt it and they both knew it. But Jesse twisted off the cap and drank, while he stared out the windows on the backside of her studio and admired the view of the harbor area and of Stiles Island.
She cleared her throat. “Jesse, not that I’m unhappy you’re here, but do you suppose you could fill me in on your reasons.”
Jesse told her he had been at Heather’s viewing. He described the kid pacing out front, smoking a cigarette. “He had dark blond hair and red-rimmed blue eyes.”
“Oh,” Maryglenn said, obviously disappointed, and plopped into a beat-up and scarred brown leather chair. “That’s Chris G.”
“G.?”
“Chris Grimm,” she said. “Told me once the family had changed their name from Grimolkowicz.”
Jesse laughed. “I could understand that. Tough name to handle. Tell me about him.”
“Kind of a shy, intense kid. A lot going on inside his head.”
“Did you ever see him together with Heather?”
“Not that I recall. Different types, Chris and Heather. She was a cheerleader and he was, you know, the brooding punk type. An outsider.”
“You sound sympathetic to him.”
“I was him, sort of,” she said. “Artists aren’t usually the popular kids with the rah-rah, sis-boom-bah ethic. You were a star athlete, so you probably knew lots of Heathers.”
Jesse wanted to deny it, but lying wasn’t his thing. “I did.”
Then he did something he couldn’t quite believe he was doing. He walked over to where Maryglenn was sitting, put down his bottled water, and lifted her out of the chair. He started to say something but just kissed her instead. The first kiss was a tentative one. He had to be certain he hadn’t misread her. The way she kissed him back indicated that he hadn’t, and things took their course from there.
Fourteen
Things happened so quickly after she kissed him back that neither of them thought to stop to make sure this was what they wanted. On some level, of course, it was. They knew that. For the most part, Jesse thought, opening his eyes in the darkness, people do what they want. He also understood there were many times a second’s hesitation would save people a lot of heartache. He climbed out of Maryglenn’s bed and stumbled his way into the bathroom. He tried not to make too much noise as he showered, but as he showered he got lost in thought.
The sex had been good, a little awkward for both of them, as it was bound to be with people unfamiliar with each other’s body. And Jesse realized there was a small part of him that felt a twinge of guilt. Maryglenn was the first woman he’d been with since Diana. It was also true that Maryglenn was the first woman he’d been with since he was sober. Problem was, he couldn’t be sure what their being together like this meant. Was this going to be a casual, itch-scratching kind of thing he’d shared with many women over the years, or was it something more? Less?
Maryglenn must have been reading his mind, because when she pulled the curtain back and joined him in the shower, she kissed him on the cheek, looked up at him, and said, “I really needed that, Jesse. I haven’t been with a man in a very long time. But don’t worry, I won’t be showing up at your doorstep or cooking your pet rabbit on the stove. Let’s just see how this goes.”
“Works for me.”
Then she handed him the soap and a washcloth and asked him to wash her. Ten minutes after that they were back in bed. Only this time, things were much less awkward and less fraught.
The next time he opened his eyes, the sun was just coming up over the edge of the Atlantic and its light making itself known to the sleepless and early risers. Maryglenn was already up, dressed, and at her easel, painting. She didn’t look back, but said, “There’s coffee waiting for when you get out of the shower.”
Jesse climbed out of bed, walked over to her, put his arms around her shoulders. She kissed his forearm.
He said, “Thank you. Can we do this again?”
“I believe there’s a dinner pending.” She looked back at him and smiled. “We’ll see about it after that. Go ahead and shower. I put some fresh towels on the rack.”
Dressed in his clothing from the night before, drinking coffee, and admiring the sunrise, Jesse said some things he had meant to say to Maryglenn sometime before they got close to doing what they had spent the night doing, but the moment never seemed right. And before last night, they hadn’t really spent much time together.
“Do you know about me?” he asked.
“I’ve heard some things.”
“About Diana?”
She kept her focus on her work. “Your late fiancée? Yeah, I’ve heard.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since.”
Maryglenn turned to look at him finally. “I don’t know how to respond to that, Jesse. Am I supposed to be honored or something? Can’t we just be happy about what it was?”
He laughed, realizing how she might take it that way. He wasn’t very good with this part of relationships. Sharing his feelings — in spite of his time with Dix, in rehab, and at AA meetings — was still a challenge for him. Volunteering them at all was a new behavior. He guessed what Molly said about his self-containment was more accurate than he wanted to admit.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I guess that was pretty clumsy of me.”
She was back at her painting. “I take you at your word, Jesse. Look, I like you. I’m obviously intensely attracted to you, but I’m not on the hunt or anything.”
“Got it.”
She put her brush down, stood up, and came over to where he was standing. “Good, because I really enjoyed last night a lot.”
He answered with a smile. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Where to?”
“Home first to get back into what passes for my uniform, and then back to Paradise High. I need to look into this Chris G. kid.”
“You think he knows something?”
Jesse nodded. “After that, Heather’s funeral is this afternoon.”
That knocked the smile off Maryglenn’s face, which, in turn, reminded Jesse of the other thing he’d come to get answers about. But he didn’t think this was the right moment to start asking about her past and the weirdness between her and Daisy, curious as he was. He leaned over, kissed her gently on the lips, and left, putting his coffee cup down on the kitchen counter as he went.