Second Chance At Love by SirAuthor,SirAuthor

In a voice cracking with emotion, she whispered in my ear, “Damn it, Jake, I’m sorry. All the way here, I swore I wouldn’t do this. I would keep my composure. I…”

Her voice failed her as she released another sob. I took advantage of her relaxing grip, took hold of her arms and separated us so I could look at her.

“What, what’s wrong, what’s happened? Is Derrick okay…Mom, Dad?”

“Oh, let’s sit Jake. I’m making a scene. People are starting to stare.”

“Screw them,” I exclaimed, howbeit, quietly, as I guided her into the seat at our booth. I slid in beside her with one hand on her near arm and my other arm over her shoulder. We always sit across from each other, but this wasn’t always. As I held her, I gently urged her to tell me what was going on.

“Is it Derrick? Is he okay…?”

“No,” she quickly responded, turning to me. It was then that I noticed she hadn’t removed her sunglasses and that the side of her faced was badly bruised. Looking directly at me, she removed her glasses with her right hand, which was bandaged, including her wrist. Around her left eye and overlaying the tawny-brown skin of her left cheek was a large purplish-blue stain — the size of a man’s hand.

My breath stuck in my throat, my chest froze, wouldn’t expand, and I felt my ears turn red with heat as a flash of intense anger flooded through me. Jessie covered my left hand, which was still holding her arm.

“No, he’s not. And I’m not. We…we had a fight…but this is nothing, just…aftermath.”

Our waiter, Emilio, who knew us well, set glasses of water on the table. He quietly said, “Take your time, Senor Jake, no hurry,” and departed.

I nodded and refocused on Jessie.

She continued, “He came home yesterday and informed me he would be leaving in the morning. No surprise. I knew he had a business trip to the east coast, coming up. I was in the kitchen putting finishing touches on dinner. I turned from the counter to ask him how long he would be gone. He didn’t look at me, but past me, and just shook his head a little. ‘No’, he said, ‘I mean, I’m leaving’. He said he would be moving out when he got back from his trip. I, I almost passed out. The blood drained out of me. My legs went weak. My stomach flip-flopped and I almost threw up. I suddenly realized what he was saying…but I didn’t ‘know’ what he meant. Then, like he was talking to an associate, he explained that it wouldn’t be fair to continue to live with me, that he was in love with Margot. That’s when I slapped him…hard.”

Tears were running down her cheeks. She was shaking. I pulled her to me and hugged her. I didn’t know what to say. I knew Margot was Derrick’s boss, and pretty sure she was married. I didn’t have the faintest notion that Derrick was having an affair with her. Jessie echoed my thoughts.

Head on my shoulder, she choked out, “Jake, I had no idea. The bastard told me they had been seeing each other for over a year…That’s when I slapped him again, and that’s when he slapped me. I lost it. I don’t how many times I hit him, but I know I broke his nose, and I knocked at least one tooth out of his fucking head. I found it on the floor, later. That’s when he did this,” she said, sitting back and putting some space between us. “He slapped me so hard, he knocked me to the floor and I started to black out. By the time I got my bearings and stood, I heard the front door slam.”

She was no longer crying. The tears were now replaced with a look of bitterness as she relived the moment.

“When the bastard was consoling you and saying how terrible Elise had treated you…He was already fucking that bitch, Margot.”

She straightened her posture, patted my hand and said, “Fuck him, fuck her. I’m hungry, let’s eat. I’m sorry to show up like this and lay this on you…”

“Jess, no. No apologies. I am so…I…hell, I don’t know what to say except, fuck him, fuck her, let’s eat.”

She laughed and hugged me, “What would I do without you, Jake, baby. You’re my rock.”

She smiled at me, reaching into her purse for a tissue, “I don’t know what I would have done today, if I wasn’t meeting you. I couldn’t go to my parents with this. Not yet. Especially with my face like this. Dad would have gone straight for Derrick. And I probably would have loaded the gun for him.”

I caught Emilio’s eye and he came over, “You are ready, Senor, the usual?”

“Yes, but let’s add a couple margaritas, Emilio.”

“Top shelf, on the rocks, yes?”

“Yes, and let’s go with those ‘fish bowls’ I see you serving.”

“You got it, mi amigo, two fish bowls coming right away,” he laughed and quickly headed to the bar.

With a crooked smile, Jessie playfully questioned, “You’re not going to get me drunk and take advantage of me in my vulnerable condition, are you, Jake?”

“Huh, what, no…” I defensively stuttered.

“Relax, Jake. I was just kidding. Of course, right now, I probably wouldn’t resist,” she laughed.

I was tongue-tied and didn’t know how to respond.

She continued, “I certainly need the drink, maybe a couple!” She gave me a slightly lopsided smile due to her bruised and swollen cheek.

After our meal, we sat and talked and finished off two more rounds of ‘fish bowl’ margaritas. Now sitting across the table from Jessie, listening to her work through a bucket of emotions and not a few revelations about her and Derrick’s relationship, I was mesmerized by the sound of her slightly husky, sensual voice; the dance of light from the table candle playing across the smoothly sculpted features of her classically beautiful face; and the lingering scent of her perfume that still clung to me from holding her.

My heart hurt — from what she had been through, what she was going through; and from my own feelings of loss this stirred up; but most of all, from my feelings for her. I never stopped loving my sister, neither the girl who rescued me from that darkest time of my young life, nor the beautiful woman that she had become; the woman sitting across from me in a slightly kitschy, Mexican restaurant with novel candle fixtures on the table.

(They put different-colored candles in a variety of tequila bottles, one on each table, let the wax melt down, then put another candle on in a different color and let it melt, so on and so on. You end up with a waterfall of different-colored candle wax completely enveloping the bottles. They became trademark table fixtures for the restaurant.)

It was Jessie’s voice cutting through the fog, “I don’t think I can drive,” she chuckled, slurring slightly.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a little fuzzy myself.”

I called Emilio over, “Mi amigo, we’re going to need a taxi…and we’ll need to leave our cars here for a while, if that’s okay.”

Si, Jake. Is fine, or maybe we can arrange for them to be brought to your home, if you like?”

“You can do that?”

He went to the bar, and a rapid-fire exchange in Spanish between him and Consuela, one of the owners, led to her coming to our table.

Senor Jake, Emilio explained your situation and if you permit, we will get you and your cars home.”

“Oh, that’s sounds like too much to…”

Leave a Comment