Real Men Knit(55)

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Kerry wasn’t waiting. Screw that. The sandwich was hot, and she was hungry. Hungry and angry. Hangry. She didn’t know if she wanted more to take a bite out of the chopped cheese, Jesse or Erika. She shook her head as she sat down, took a breath and looked at her plated sandwich. Definitely not Erika. She was a full-on annoyance but not worth Kerry putting her back into getting stressed over. Besides, for all Erika’s hard looks and flexing like she was the shit, it was easy to see she was just insecure and trying her best to get Jesse’s attention.

Kerry picked up her sandwich and took a healthy bite. It was good, as usual, with the perfect ratio of cheese to meat, and Jesse hadn’t messed up on her toppings and the hot sauce was perfect. But still it didn’t taste quite right. She looked over at the empty seat opposite, looked at his still-wrapped sandwich on the white plate with the floral border and thought of Jesse downstairs dealing with a clearly irate Erika.

Kerry had seen different versions of the same story told many ways over the years. Erika was just a new package. Jesse was a man who loved women but didn’t love holding on to them. He wooed them fast and easy with his good looks and easygoing smile, and just as fast and just as easy, for him at least, he let them go. Attachment was not his thing. He’d given up a little of his time. But never his heart. She’d seen it since junior high. The girls who would come through looking for him under the guise of being interested in knitting and the shop. They’d have all sorts of flattering words for Mama Joy, and some would even go so far as to spend their precious allowances or hard-earned part-time money on a skein, but the conversation would always find its way to “Oh, and how is Jesse?” “You’re his mom, right?” “Can you tell him Sandra, Yolanda, Tisha or whoever stopped by?”

The saddest of all were the girls who actually returned. The ones who used their yarn and actually made something for Jesse. Kerry often wondered what he did with all the hats and scarves woven with the tears of the brokenhearted. And Erika was no different. Here she was showing up at his door when one look at him and it was clear that she was on her way to the back of the line. Kerry frowned. Only difference with Erika the Toe Taylor was that her gift, packaged in tight Lycra with a side of 80-proof courage, wasn’t as sweet and innocent as a handknitted scarf.

She worried about Jesse drowning his feelings in alcohol instead of facing them head-on. She knew she couldn’t force her thoughts on him or even get him to talk. But still, thinking of him just screwing and getting drunk . . . that couldn’t be the way either.

She took another bite and thought of pushing the sandwich aside when he appeared in the kitchen doorframe.

Kerry looked at him, and despite herself, her lips tightened, and she picked up her phone, because yeah, she suddenly had something urgent to check. Now who was the game player? She heard Jesse snort and looked up.

He was walking toward her with a half smile, but she could see the tension in his shoulders. Don’t comment. It’s not your business. Don’t comment. “So you got rid of your company?” she said. Fuck. What happened to not commenting?

He nodded and sat. “I did. Sorry about that. I hope she didn’t give you too hard a time. I didn’t expect her to show up like that. I thought the other morning would be the last time.” He started to unwrap his sandwich, then paused, scratching his ear. Was he waiting for her to say something? What was she supposed to say to that?

Kerry picked up her sandwich and stared at him. “So I gathered. But I don’t think she’s on the same page. I also don’t think she’s one to get the hint so easily. She’ll be back.” She took a bite of her sandwich, then a sip of her drink.

He nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. It’s probably her just being clingy. She thinks we’re hooking up, so I guess that threw her off.”

Her soda got caught in her throat and she coughed. “Thinks? Her morning-after look said hookup all the way.” Kerry sighed and forced the sweet liquid down with a hard swallow. “You really are a lot, Jesse Strong. But I hope you set her right. I know I was a little cheeky downstairs, but of course she knows nothing is going on between us.”

Jesse shrugged. Just shrugged.

“WTF with the shrug, Jes?”

He smiled and reached for her plate. “Come on. It’s way too tense and quiet in here. Let’s go eat in the living room. The game is on and I want to watch.”

Kerry frowned. “What if I don’t want to watch the game?”

He shrugged again. “Then we’ll trade off on times. You let me check the score and I’ll let you be in charge of the remote.” Kerry raised her brow. It did seem fair. Now it was her turn to shrug. “Okay, fine. But you’re going to tell me what happened with the rest of that conversation.”

She followed him into the living room, carrying their drinks and placing them on coasters on the coffee table while he set up TV trays. The fact that Mama Joy had actual TV trays spoke to the woman’s constant preparedness and ingenuity. Kerry could imagine her setting up the boys in there to watch TV and eat on special occasions but wanting them to not ruin the furniture, which was an old style but still in good condition, a testament to how well she’d kept her home even with four rambunctious boys growing up there.

She sat awkwardly, her hands clenched to the edge of the tray as Jesse flipped on the TV. He turned and looked at her. “Would you just relax and eat? These sandwiches have gotten cold enough. I thought you were hungry.”