From The Dead (14 page)

For starters, he could show up.

Caitlyn’s house featured snow-white siding, accented
by black shutters and black shingles. To Jesse, the home looked
gentle, undisturbed. From its stature, it didn’t appear Caitlyn
earned a sizable salary. Her lawn had been shaven recently; in the
breeze, Jesse detected the scent of an early spring mowing. It was
now late April, and the last of the evening flurries had
disappeared three weeks ago.

He hesitated a final time. Now or never, he figured.
So he pressed his finger to the backlit doorbell and waited for
destiny to unfold before his eyes. He tried to picture Caitlyn’s
initial reaction: Surprise? Anger? Indifference? He deserved the
anger and he knew it.

He caught a whiff of perennial flowers, among them a
patch of violets, Caitlyn’s favorite.

Who would answer the door? Would she? Or perhaps a
boyfriend—what would Jesse do if another man emerged?

His answer arrived in moments, and nothing could have
prepared him for the sight of his high-school sweetheart.

He’d never forgotten her.

Her face registered shock before she steadied
herself. As Jesse glimpsed her eyes, he saw them recoil a step, the
reaction of a wounded soul. She bit her lip.

He felt an unexpected pang—Caitlyn’s pain. And he had
caused it. They had parted ways so he could pursue his dreams. He
was the reason she had, no doubt, cried alone.

“Hi,” he whispered.

Emotionless, she stared at him in a manner factual
yet unrevealing. Jesse had no idea what went through her mind; for
that matter, he doubted Caitlyn herself knew. Jesse felt enshrouded
in a murky cloak, the shadowy sense of a trespasser. He no longer
belonged in her presence.

Yet undeserving as he felt, he forced himself to look
into her eyes. “Can I come in?”

Her stare spoke of indecision. Or was it
apprehension?

“Please,” he whispered again, the knowing tone of one
to whom she had once bound her soul.

Without a word, her eyes softened as she allowed him
in.

The front door opened into a living room with a
meager collection of furniture, respectable yet apparent
hand-me-downs. But overall the room appeared kempt and comfortable.
A fireplace sat at one end, an arm’s length from a coffee table and
plaid sofa, with the front window behind them.

As he grew more awkward by the heartbeat, Jesse sat
on the sofa before he could think of a question to ask. Caitlyn
continued to stand and watch him, arms crossed, to wait for him to
say something. But he couldn’t find the words. Although he had
rehearsed different things to say to her, those words were mere
threads in the fabric of what he wanted to express.

Caitlyn broke the silence at last. “I don’t know if
this is a good idea.”

“Cait, please …”

He watched her jaw stiffen, but then she sat beside
him. She seemed caught between fret and uncertainty. Hard as he
tried, Jesse couldn’t get a read on her.

Then it hit him: Was she afraid she could get hurt
all over again?

He tried to connect with her sapphire eyes. He stared
at her porcelain skin, her wintry blond hair—almost white in its
shade—which drifted a couple of inches past her shoulder blades.
Despite her silence, the woman exuded strength. Whatever he had to
say, she wanted him to speak first.

Say something, Jesse.
Anything.

“No cat, huh?” he said.

“Drew can’t have them around. He’s allergic to
them.”

Jesse’s heart sank again. She had a husband.

In an attempt to break the ice, Jesse continued, “But
you always had a cat. How does he deal with it when you two visit
your parents?”

“I haven’t seen my parents in years.”

Jesse nodded. This he understood.

When he peered down at her hand, he noticed she
didn’t wear a wedding band. No husband after all. “Are you in a
relationship?” Immediately he wanted to kick himself for his
bluntness.

But she didn’t appear offended. Rather, she looked
remorseful as she buried her face in her hands.

“Sorry,” Jesse said. “I figured Drew is—”

“Drew is my son.”

Jesse nodded, unsure whether to step with caution or
change the subject altogether. But he was eager to know. “Well,” he
said, “I’m sure Drew has a terrific dad. I’m happy for you,
Cait.”

Her shoulders sank. She wouldn’t look Jesse in the
eye. “He’s never met his dad,” she said, her voice muffled by her
hands.

“Why not?”

At last, she relented. Her eyes met his. “He’s
yours,” she whispered.

Jesse cocked his ear forward. Had he missed a detail?
“He’s … what?”

Her arms fell to her lap. “I couldn’t go through with
the abortion. I couldn’t make myself do it.”

Shell-shocked, Jesse made a slow rise to his feet.
Caitlyn reached for his hand, but Jesse pulled it away. He didn’t
know whether to feel angry or scared. “How am I supposed to respond
to that?”

“Before you say a word, please let me explain,” she
said.

“You said you couldn’t handle a baby!”

“You wanted to go to L.A.! We both thought an
abortion would solve everything. But the closer I got, the less my
heart allowed me to go through with it. By that time, you were
already gone, and I didn’t have your new phone number—”

“You didn’t try to call Eden or my dad?”
“You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret from them.
Remember?”

Jesse crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn said. “I know it doesn’t
eradicate what I did, but I made the best decision I could. Jess,
please believe me.” She rubbed her forehead as she started to sob.
“If I’d told you about Drew, it would have disrupted your life,
your dreams, all you wanted to build for yourself in L.A. It didn’t
seem fair to you: You didn’t want to be tied here, and you said you
couldn’t handle fatherhood. Did you want the baby and not tell
me?”

“No, but …” Jesse knew she was right. Indeed, when it
came to his life apart from her, he had filled it with errors and
regret. Nonetheless, he struggled with anger over today’s
revelation, so he pursed his lips and paced the room.

“Jess, you know me.” Her eyes a plea, she peered up
at him. “You know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

Confused, Jesse gazed into Caitlyn’s face and saw the
girl he’d once loved. She was right: He knew her heart. So he made
his way back to the sofa and sat beside her.

Caitlyn rested her head on her hands. “I didn’t try
to mislead you.”

He sighed, unsure what to think. “I know you
didn’t.”

“Look at me,” Caitlyn said. Their eyes met. Caitlyn’s
dripped with sincerity. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t
want to do. I promise. This wasn’t your choice. You don’t need to
provide. You can walk away if you want to, and Drew would never
know you were here.”

Jesse could tell her offer was an honest one. It
wasn’t an attempt to remove him from the picture. Rather, she
offered him a place in it.

Eleven years ago, they had found themselves drowning
in an unexpected predicament. His departure had been by mutual
agreement, though he knew it must have rubbed her heart sore at the
time.

Jesse glanced at Caitlyn, who massaged her temples.
Regardless of her past choices, he knew she must be scared to let
him in again.

Neither knew what to say; each had launched the other
into a state of confusion.

As Jesse got up and walked over to the fireplace,
Caitlyn caught a glimpse of her high-school sweetheart—the same
person, just a tad older. And tanner.

The room felt so still, Jesse could hear himself
breathe. He searched for something to say, something to ask, but
what? They had each made their share of mistakes.

On the mantle sat an arrangement of pictures. Jesse
picked one at random, took in the sight of Caitlyn and a friend in
front of a museum.

And then another picture captured him.

As he leaned in, his eyes widened. Jesse reached out
and retrieved the framed photo.

“Wow,” he whispered as he stared at the young boy in
the picture. He glanced over his shoulder and asked, “Is this
him?”

Engrossed, Jesse couldn’t remove himself from the
photo.

Caitlyn joined Jesse at the mantle. He sensed a bond
between Caitlyn and himself, a mutual knowledge of how he felt at
this moment: the overwhelming sense of joy when a parent looks at a
child and realizes that child is
your
child. Together, Jesse
and Caitlyn gazed into the picture of Drew in a Cleveland Indians
baseball cap, a duffel bag in hand on his first day of summer
camp.

Drew was now ten years old.

“Yes,” Caitlyn replied, her voice gentle. “It’s
him.”

Blown away, Jesse stifled a chuckle of pride. “Light
blond hair,” he said under his breath, then glanced over at the
boy’s mother. “Just like his mom’s.”

Caitlyn smiled; her demeanor softened in the moment.
“He’s artistic.”

“Like his dad …” Jesse whispered to himself.

While Jesse studied every detail in the photo—his
first introduction to his son—Caitlyn examined Jesse’s subtle
reactions. In a subconscious manner, Jesse ran his finger along the
edge of the frame; the corner of his mouth twitched with the
delicacy of a feather.

Caitlyn returned her gaze to the picture. “He’s been
asking questions about his father lately.”

“He has? Like what?”
“General things. What he was like, why he left.” She chewed a
fingernail. Her eyes darted from Drew to Jesse, then back to Drew
again, the photo of her son without his father. “Maybe … maybe I
can introduce you to him.” Before Jesse could respond, she held up
her hand to cut him off. “But we need to take it slow. I need to
protect Drew.”

With a nod, Jesse bit his lip in authenticity. “I
understand.”

For a few minutes longer, they looked at the picture
without speaking. Jesse savored the moment. More than a decade had
passed since they had shared such close proximity. Somehow, it
didn’t seem so long ago when they had felt secure in each other’s
presence.

Before he left the house, Jesse gave her his cell
number.

When Caitlyn shut the door behind him, she leaned her
head against the door frame. Then she moved to the window and gazed
out the window at the only man she had ever loved—the one who
walked back into her life less than an hour ago.

As Jesse approached his car, he felt at peace. For
the first time in months, he felt as though he had done something
right.

CHAPTER 25

That evening, Jesse walked into Eden’s house
stunned.

From the kitchen, Eden called out, “Jess, is that
you? I’ll be there when the popcorn’s done. I put
The Breakfast
Club
into the DVD player so we can hang out tonight.”

The DVD player, by default, moved from its menu and
started to play the movie. On any other night, Jesse would have
looked forward to his favorite film. He headed into the living room
and plopped down on the sofa, where he stroked his chin and
replayed the Caitlyn scenario in his mind.

With a bag of popcorn in hand, Eden shook its
contents as she walked into the room. She settled in at the other
end of the sofa and crawled under a fleece throw. “What’s up with
you tonight? You’re so quiet. Did you see Caitlyn?”

Lost in thought, Jesse remained subdued. “Everything
changed today.”

“You seem distracted. Didn’t it go well?” Steam
wafted from the bag as she tore it open. She savored the first
buttery bite.

“She had the baby.”

“What?”

“Look, don’t get worked up about this, but Caitlyn
and I … she got pregnant years ago. Back when I was ready to move
to California.”

“How could—”

“I kept it a secret from you because I was scared Dad
would freak out. Cait was ready to start college, I was ready to
leave Ohio. So we agreed on an abortion.”

“You what?”

Jesse watched as shock registered on Eden’s face,
followed by the relief of a social worker who placed babies in
adoptive homes. “She didn’t go through with it. She said she
couldn’t, that she changed her mind after I was gone. But she
couldn’t contact me because she didn’t have my new phone number,
and I’d made her swear never to tell you or Dad. It wasn’t her
fault; she did nothing wrong. But she wanted the baby and has
raised him all along.”

Eden’s arms went limp as she fell back against the
sofa. “All by herself …”

Jesse nodded. “His name is Drew. I haven’t met him
yet; we’ll ease into it. And we won’t tell him the truth until
later.” Jesse glanced at his sister. “I know you want to ask
questions, but my mind is running in circles and I don’t have many
answers for you. So why don’t we try to salvage the evening since
you went to the effort of the movie?”

From the way Eden sealed her lips, Jesse could tell
she fought to restrain her questions. In her eyes he saw
compassion. She held the bag out toward him, and he slid a piece of
popcorn into his mouth. It was after seven, and he hadn’t had a
bite to eat since lunch. Not that he could consume much with an
edgy stomach.

So they stared at the movie. They laughed less than
usual as the group of teenagers, who sat bored in the school
library, bickered back and forth on the TV screen. Soon the
students delved into their lunches, and Judd Nelson watched as
Molly Ringwald prepared her sushi with prom-queen delicacy.

Jesse turned to Eden. “Please don’t tell Dad about
Drew, okay?”

She sighed. “Not a word.”

“I know you hate to keep secrets from him, but I’ll
tell him in my own time. The only reason you and Dad didn’t hear
about it already is because word doesn’t travel from a half hour
away. Cait’s pregnancy wouldn’t have started to show until months
after she graduated, so by then, everybody that went to her school
was off at college or had already moved away. For the most part,
she and I used to hang out with each other alone anyway.”