Out of the Easy(59)

“You okay?” asked Jesse.

“I loved it! My heart feels like it’s gonna jump out of my chest. My skin is on fire.”

“That’s adrenaline. Sometimes I’ll accelerate, feel that freedom in my face, and it’s like I could ride forever.” Jesse started to laugh. “Look at you.”

“What?”

“You’re smiling this huge smile, and your face is all flushed. Come on, I’ll get you something to drink.”

We stood next to each other at the soda cooler. I was still giddy from the ride and bumped him out of the way with my hip. He grabbed my arm and pulled himself back toward me.

“You better be nice, or I’ll leave you out here,” he whispered.

“Then I’ll just walk back, like I do every day.”

He looked surprised. “You walk all the way out here alone?”

“Every day. Me, myself, and I. Aren’t you jealous?”

Jesse reached over and moved a piece of hair out of my eyes. “Yeah, I kinda am.”

His hand lingered on my cheek. My eyes pulled to his.

“Hey, Josie. No messages today, but I got mail for you.” The store owner handed me an envelope. I recognized Patrick’s handwriting, turned my back to Jesse, and tore open the envelope.

Dear Jo,



Sorry I haven’t written sooner, but things have been busy. Charlie is sleeping a lot, but Randolph said that yesterday he walked around his room. I saw your mom on Chartres with some wiseguy. The cops brought the bandleader back from Baton Rouge for questioning, and he claimed he thought Mr. Hearne was asleep at the table, not dead. Capote threw a party before he left town and asked me to play piano. No mail from Smith yet. That’s about all from here.





Miss you—Patrick





PS. Betty Lockwell has come by the shop twice. Write back and guess what she bought.





Jesse and I sat on the wooden steps of the small grocery, drinking root beer and throwing rocks at a tree. I imagined the tree was Betty Lockwell and nailed it, every single time. Each branch was an arm, a leg, then her head. Salted peanuts.

“So, how long have you been Patrick’s girl?” asked Jesse.

I didn’t feel like talking about Patrick, especially with Jesse. “I don’t know,” I told him.

I hurled a rock, taking out Betty’s last remaining appendage.

“Does he kiss you right?”

I stopped and turned to him. “Excuse me?”

He gave me a smug smile. “That means no.”

“And what about you? I’m sure you have lots of girlfriends.”

“I’m not lonely. I don’t have a girlfriend, though.” Jesse took a swig from his bottle and leaned back on the steps. “That night at Dewey’s, you said you were meeting your guy. I followed you. It was dark, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You went all the way down to the river. He stood you up.”

Jesse had followed me the night I took the watch to the river. “No, I—”

“Yeah, Jo, he never showed, and you started crying. And I stood there thinking, ‘Man, this guy is so stupid.’ So whatever upset you in that letter from him, just forget about it. You’re moving on, and boy, Massachusetts has no idea what’s coming for them. I bet you’ll be the first Mae West they’ve ever had.” Jesse drained the last of his root beer. “Come on, we better get going. I’ve got a three-hour ride ahead of me.”

We drove back to Shady Grove, much slower on the return. I held on to Jesse and rested the side of my face on his back.

The dirt on the steps was undisturbed. The cottage lay quiet, asleep in an afternoon nap. We ate a sandwich on the porch in silence, staring at the shawls of Spanish moss blowing slowly back and forth from the branches of the oaks. Jesse returned my pistol, and I followed him back down the porch steps to his motorcycle.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his jacket and handed me a small card.

JESSE THIERRY





LUXURY AUTOMOTIVE SERVICE





TEL: RAYMOND 4001





“That guy Lockwell asked for my card, and I didn’t have one. It got me thinking. Those Uptown guys could probably use a discreet mechanic, and I can charge handsome for it. I gave a card to Willie, and she says she can turn a lot of business my way. Sure beats selling flowers.”

“That’s a good hustle,” I told him.

“We both got a little hustle, don’t we?” He pulled on his jacket. “But I like to think we got more heart.”

“I think it’s great, Jesse. And you even have a telephone,” I said.

“Nah, it’s the neighbors’. They said they’d take the calls and come get me. Well, I’m gonna hit the road.”

“Thanks for coming all the way out here and keeping me company.”

“See ya, Jo.” Jesse put on his sunglasses. “It was nice.”

I sat on the steps and watched him drive away. I listened to the hum of the Triumph until it faded completely, replaced by a symphony of cicadas and bullfrogs. I sat until the sun dropped, then locked the door and began the walk down to Ray and Frieda’s with my pillow.

We were on our way to Biloxi.