Throwaway (19 page)

Jessie melted into the couch as soon as she
got home. Every piece of her hurt, but the day had passed so
quickly it was worth it. Customers at the diner were beginning to
chat with her as she bussed tables. For the first time in her life,
she felt like the average person could see her. She was no longer
an invisible member of society.

She wondered if Jesse James ever worried
about his new neighbors finding out his past. More and more, she
thought about what life had been like for the granddaughter who was
never acknowledged. She wondered what kind of person could throw
away a kid like that. Really, the more pressing question was
whether or not a throwaway kid could make good in the end.

“No one’s ever going to toss you aside,” she
told the bump in her stomach. Maybe it was the desire to make good
on that promise that prompted her to look up the nearest family
clinic. The book she’d checked out from the library told her she
was in her second trimester now and well past the time for
scheduling her first prenatal checkup.

She found herself inexplicably nervous when
the time for the exam actually arrived, and equally relieved when
it was over with and they had both been pronounced healthy. Armed
with a printout of her newly-scheduled doctor’s appointments, she
realized just how glad she was to have a job now. Even at a
subsidized clinic, having a baby uninsured was bound to be
expensive. She wondered if there would be anything left when it was
all said and done, but there was no sense worrying about that at
this stage in the game.

Time flew by since Milo always seemed to have
an excuse for her to be at the diner when he was. She enjoyed his
odd mix of cranky and kind, taking great pleasure in teasing him as
much as he did her. It wasn’t long until the two were fast
friends.

So it really shouldn’t have surprised Jessie
the day she walked into work to find the diner decorated with
streamers and balloons. “Happy Birthday Jessie” adorned a banner
across the far wall.

“Surprise!” a dozen people called when she
opened the door. Tears sprang to her eyes and she did a quick
u-turn back onto the sidewalk where she gulped in the cold air.

“Jessie,” worry etched Milo’s face as he
joined her outside. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never had a birthday party before,” she
admitted, flames spreading across her face.

“Oh,” he seemed surprised by that. “Not sure
if we can live up to the pressure of being your first party, but
why don’t you come give us a try?”

She let him tuck her hand in the crook of his
arm, following him shyly back into the little restaurant. Jessie
almost bolted when an enthusiastic cheer went up as they reentered
the room, but Milo tightened his grip until she relaxed.

“I never figured you for being such a
frightened little bird,” he winked.

“Is that the cranky old man equivalent of
calling me a chicken?”

“Something like that.”

“Fine, I’ll go enjoy myself.”

“Thatta girl.”

“And Milo… thank you.”

She made the rounds, chatting with the people
she had come to call her friends over the past few weeks. As happy
as she was to see a woman her own age who was pregnant, she was
glad when Beth interrupted her chat with the family from Tumbleweed
Ranch to cut the cake. There was such adoration on Hailey’s face
when she spoke to her husband; it was almost more than Jessie could
bear to watch.

All in all, it was the best birthday party
Jessie could have asked for and she spent most of the afternoon
laughing.

“You guys did not have to get me gifts; this
party is more than enough,” she protested when they started handing
prettily-wrapped packages her way.

“Nonsense,” Beth smiled “It’s just a little
something.”

That little something turned out to be
everything from a towel set to knick-knacks to baby furniture.
Jessie was flushed with gratitude by the time the pile was
opened.

“Thank you,” she hugged a sheepish Milo by
the neck.

“Hey Ma, the phone’s for you,” Beth
called.

“Take a message,” he scowled.

“I think you’ll want to take this one,” her
smile was a knowing one.

The entire diner seemed to pick up on Beth’s
tone and a hush fell over the previously boisterous crowd.

It was hard for Jessie to hear what Milo was
saying, but he was nodding and there were tears in his eyes. When
he hung up the phone he turned to the crowd, a grin unlike any
other across his face.

“He’s alive. My boy’s alive. He’ll be home by
next week.”

The crowd converged on Milo, but Jessie could
only sink into the nearest chair. From the bubbles of conversation
floating around her, she gathered that Milo’s son had been badly
burned and had suffered multiple broken bones, but was in fact
alive and on his way home.

“I’m so happy for you,” Jessie managed that
much before retreating to the safety of the Plymouth. She held back
the tears until she was home, curled up in bed with Gabe’s hat.
Then she sobbed for all of the brutal unfairness in the world.

Later that night, she stood on her front
porch wrapped in Gabe’s sweater and staring at the most beautiful
stars she’d ever seen.

“What did I do to piss you off so bad?” she
murmured at the heavens. “Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

The stars twinkled merrily in response.

“Are you even up there? If so… consider this
my formal complaint being lodged.” The stars didn’t answer and her
nose was going numb. Deflated and broken, Jessie went to bed.

After a morning of aimlessly puttering around
her apartment, she was too annoyed with herself to muddle through
the afternoon in the same way so she bundled up and got in the
Plymouth, headed anywhere but there. She filled up her tank on the
way out of town and just drove.

At some point, the scenery became familiar
and she knew she was close to their cave. Acting on instinct, she
found herself bumping along a welcome gravel road. She parked the
car in front of the log cabin and got out hesitantly.

“Hello?”

Silence was her only answer. She called out
again before deciding she was most likely alone. The cave was
securely locked and she wasn’t about to get arrested for breaking
in. She didn’t even try the door to the cabin, contenting herself
to settle in on the front porch swing.

The crisp air and gentle rustling of the
woods soothed her troubled spirit. She let her mind wander. Had
Jesse James done anything with the second chance he’d been given?
Had he done good in this world once his slate was clean?

As she soaked in her surroundings, the pieces
began to fall together. And then, with startling clarity, she knew
what she must do with her own clean slate. The how escaped her, but
knowing the what was enough to fill her with a new sense of
hope.

She wrapped her arms around herself and
walked back to the Plymouth, thinking it was sad to see such a
beautiful place sit empty and alone. She wondered what happened for
it to be abandoned.

All through the evening, she went through the
motions of a typical day, but her mind was abuzz with the
possibilities of her newfound purpose. The next day she arrived at
work early, eager to talk to Milo. Maybe he’d have some ideas.

She could tell he was worried about her, and
it took several reassurances for him to stop asking if she was
okay. It was almost as if he felt guilty in leaving her to mourn
alone. Eventually, he seemed confident enough of her mental
stability that he let himself be excited about his son’s
return.

A dreary drizzle of snow had settled in,
which made for a slow afternoon at the diner. She was making them
lunch, implementing the skills learned in her recent cooking
lessons, when she broached the subject on her mind with Milo.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what to do…
now… next.”

“Other than have a healthy baby and learn to
be a short order cook, you mean?”

“Yeah. Besides that.”

“Okay…”

“I want to help the throwaway kids out
there.”

“All of them?”

“As many as I can,” she answered. “Hey, do
you want brown or white gravy on your mashed potatoes?”

“Brown. So how do you plan to do this,
exactly?”

“Not sure. I’m thinking I want to set up sort
of a halfway house for kids coming out of the foster system. A
place to stay while they get their feet under them, mentors to show
them how to do it.”

“Doesn’t the state have that kind of stuff
already?” he accepted the plate Jessie handed him through the
kitchen window. “Wow that looks amazing.”

“Thanks,” she blushed. “And no, they don’t.
They send kids packing on their 18th birthday with nothing and
nowhere to go… at least, they used to. I doubt that’s changed.”

“You seem to have some firsthand knowledge,”
Milo regarded her.

“A bit,” she blushed deeper as she wiped her
hands on her apron. “Do you want a dinner roll?”

“Sure.”

Jessie passed the dinner roll and her own
plate through the window before coming around to the counter to get
herself a glass of milk.

“Jessie my girl, you are shaping up to be a
fine cook. This looks delicious.”

“Thanks,” Jessie beamed at him. The bell on
the front door merrily jingled as she rounded the corner and she
tried not to groan. A customer meant her efforts would be cold by
the time she could enjoy them. She looked up and her smile
vanished. The blood drained from her face. He looked as surprised
as she, but recovered more quickly and strode to cover the distance
between them as she hit the floor in a dead faint.

When her eyes fluttered open, she wondered if
she’d been transported into some sort of a dream. If it hadn’t been
for the steady throb in the back of her head, she’d have been
certain of it.

How else could she now be cradled in Gabe’s
arms, his anxious face only inches from hers? What other
explanation could there be for the hand that cupped her face or the
thumb that stroked her cheek?

Unable to speak, Jessie reached her fingers
up to touch his face, fully expecting them to go right through a
mirage. Only they didn’t, and the face was different. Still
beautiful, but hardened by a network of scars working their way
down the right side from his temple to his neck. His warm chocolate
eyes seemed so worried—about her. Didn’t he know he was the one
that was dead?

“Jessie, Jessie,” Milo’s face appeared above
Gabe’s. “Are you okay? Do you think the baby’s okay?”

“Baby?” Gabe choked on the word, his eyes
flying from hers to her stomach and back again.

Suddenly, somehow, the spell between them was
broken. He straightened, his body language altogether changing.

“Can you stand?” Milo was reaching for her as
Gabe was almost shoving her off of him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just a little
embarrassed,” she flushed and batted away their hands once she was
on her feet. She looked expectantly at Gabe, but his face was cold.
“You know what, though, maybe I should go home and lie down. Just
to be safe. I’m so sorry Milo.”

“No, it’s my fault. I’ve been working you too
hard. Gabe, drive Jessie home. I don’t want her trying to go
herself.”

“Are you sure?” he seemed hesitant to
leave.

“Of course, we’ve got plenty of time to catch
up. Come on back when you get her settled,” Milo insisted before
hugging Gabe in the most impulsive action Jessie’d ever seen from
him. “Praise God for second chances; we can talk when you get back
son.”

The truth crashed over Jessie at once and she
felt so stupid for not seeing it sooner. Ma—Milo Adams. No wonder
she liked him so much; he was Gabe’s father.

“I’ll call you later,” she promised as she
kissed Milo’s cheek on the way out the back door.

“Where am I taking you?”

“The apartments on 8th,” Jessie wanted to
scream. She wanted to cry. Why was he being so distant? Why wasn’t
this a good reunion? “What did I miss here?”

“I doubt you miss much,” he slammed the door
to the Plymouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Is he going to be there?”

“He who?”

“That’s rich. How long after I was gone
before you two started procreating? Did you even wait that
long?”

“Shut up—you bastard,” she spat the words,
furious at the tears that sprang to her eyes. Stupid hormones.

“I guess I know why you never returned my
calls. I didn’t want to believe it when they said the two of you
ran off together.”

“Who’s they? Who did I run off with? Wait…
you think this is Spence’s baby? That he’s here?” It dawned on
Jessie where his mind had gone. She closed her eyes in a bid for
patience.

“Tell me he’s not,” Gabe’s voice was hard. He
put the car into park and turned to face her.

“If I have to tell you—if there is a doubt in
your mind—then you don’t deserve me and you damn sure don’t deserve
this baby,” with that, she got out and marched to her apartment,
only to realize that he still had her keys. She turned to get them
and bumped into a solid wall of chest.

“The baby’s mine?” his voice was broken.

“Give me my keys, you big fat jerk.”

“I love you, too,” his forehead came to rest
on hers.

“Get off of me,” she shoved at him, wishing
she wouldn’t start crying so easily. She snatched her keys from his
hand and turned to unlock her door, but his arms were around her,
pulling her back before she could even get the key out of the
lock.

“No, Jessie, I went completely out of my mind
when I went to find you and you were gone. Everyone said you took
off with Spence. You hadn’t answered any of my calls. Please,
listen to me.”

“No. See, from my point of view, you left me
for dead. I barely got away alive and then spent months mourning
you because some stupid website told me you were gone forever. I’ve
been scared and alone and you don’t get to be mean to me now
Gabriel McAlister Adams,” her voice rose steadily as she spoke.