Chapter Twenty-One
"Hello, how may I help you?" the lady behind the counter asked in a bored voice. She was reading a historical romance novel. Apparently the animal shelter in San Fran wasn't having much business this holiday season, even if it was a week before Christmas. I guess all of the kids in San Francisco wanted video games for Christmas instead of puppies and kittens.
I had just finished my last exam for the semester, so I went to find a new cat for Jesse—preferably a cat that would actually like me. I could have gone to a pet shop, but I thought it would be nice to rescue a cat from the animal shelter, since Jesse didn't like how the animals were expected to use the restroom (so to speak) on a sheet of newspaper, and since he absolutely hated the fact that they were so caged up in an area he said wasn't much larger than a cardboard box that printer papers came in.
"I want to adopt a cat, a kitten, maybe," I said hesitantly. The lady behind the counter looked as if she didn't particularly care to be working at the animal shelter.
She put down the book and stood up. I could tell she wasn't exactly enthused to be leaving her book—despite the fact that she wasn't very far into the book anyway—but she seemed glad to have someone come in to adopt an animal.
"Right this way," she said, leading me through a doorway and down a hallway.
As soon as I set foot inside the hallway—which was made up of cages, where all the cats lived—approximately a hundred cats started meowing at me in hopes of being adopted.
It took a long time to pick out the cat. They were all so cute and begging to be adopted and taken home to a nice, loving family. I mean, they were all as close to me as they could get, and they were meowing so much. It was just so hard to pick out a cat, especially since I had to pick out a cat to replace Spike, if replacing Spike was even possible.
Besides, it's not like I could just take any cat to Jesse on Christmas Eve—it had to be a special cat, because for Jesse, Spike had been special.
So I was careful. I looked at all of the cats—to the dismay of the receptionist, who was eager to return to the pages of a book in which some lovely young heroine was more than likely going to wind up in the arms of a dashing young hero somewhere around the middle part of the story—and I finally found the perfect cat for Jesse. It was a cute little black kitten with gray stripes and bright blue eyes, and it loved me. I merely patted it on the head and it purred loud enough to embarrass felines all over the planet. I knew instantly that Jesse would just love that cat.
"That one's name is Sammy. She and her brother Kody were brought here last week by a lady who found the poor things in a dumpster outside her apartment," the receptionist said.
"Can we take her out and let me hold her?" I asked.
The receptionist sighed. Maybe she had been further along in the book than she had appeared to be.
I held the little kitten in my arms, and she purred even more loudly than before. I stroked Sammy's furry head, and I kind of thought that she reminded me of a baby, in an odd way. I mean, she was tiny, fragile, very adorable, but I knew she would still require—literally—a ton of attention.
I had, over the past few months, been thinking about babies with an alarming regularity. For the most part, I thought it was because of my strict diet—started because I didn't want to gain any weight over the holidays because I had a very expensive wedding dress to fit into—which demanded that I couldn't have much—if any—chocolate. Since I was so stressed out over exams and the wedding, I felt like eating chocolate twenty-four/seven, but since I couldn't have the chocolate, I occupied my time by daydreaming, mostly about what being married to Jesse would feel like.
And that always resulted in me having to drink a lot of herbal tea with artificial sweetener in it.
I stroked Sammy behind the ears. She let out a little meow, and lots of purring. I made up my mind.
"I want to adopt her," I said finally.
"If you want to adopt her, you'll need to adopt her brother as well," the receptionist said, "It was the lady's request."
I looked inside the cage. There was another cat that looked similar to Sammy inside. He was sleeping.
"I'll take him, too," I said. I thought Jesse and I would be able to handle a couple of kittens. I mean, we had the potential to be parents one day: we would need to practice our parenting skills.
Okay, okay. I needed to practice my parenting skills. I already knew Jesse would have been a good father. Jesse worked with kids practically every day at the hospital. He was always nice and kind to them, even when he had difficulty helping them.
But the only people I'd ever worked with that even came close to being kids would be immature college kids, like when I had been made fun of for my success, before I transferred to the Academy of Art.
Oh, and I'd babysat rich people's whiny kids for a few summers.
But a kitten would be a full-time job, like Jesse's patients were. I'd keep Kody for a while, and Sammy would be Jesse's Christmas present. And since they were brother and sister, we'd have to get together and let them play until we actually got married, meaning that I had another reason to spend time with Jesse—and another excuse for driving two hours to Carmel every once in a while.
- - -
I couldn't wait until Christmas Eve, when Gina was supposed to go to her boyfriend's place for the evening—maybe to meet his parents or something—and that meant Jesse and I would be alone, but that only meant that we would be able to eat dinner and—as much as I dreaded it—discuss the details of our wedding ceremony without Gina being around.
Although Gina just thought that going to her boyfriend Scott's place meant that Jesse and I had some alone time to do something other than exchange gifts and discuss our wedding plans.
But that was something I was sure Jesse wouldn't want to do.
And did I mention that I was cooking? Yes, I was cooking Jesse dinner, even though I was no culinary expert. I tried to cook him dinner, I really did.
For the most part, it was edible. I think.
I mean, I knew I could make Ramen noodles and herbal tea, but the dinner I was going to cook for Jesse would have to be something a little more special. I wasn't, I realized as I taste-tested the roast, a bad cook. I was just inexperienced, just like I was with wedding planning. I guess if the roast was okay, then my wedding would be too.
By the time I had tasted the roast for the last time, and everything else was finished, I looked at the clock on the microwave and realized that it was almost time for Jesse to arrive, and I was still wearing that stupid apron with KISS THE COOK on it that my mother had bought me, thinking it was all cute, even though I thought it was utterly repulsive—the only thing I could find to protect myself from ruining my outfit with mashed potatoes or whatever—and my hair wasn't staying in place, like it should have, for what I paid for that hairspray at the salon—which was not what you'd pay for a can of Rave at the pharmacy.
It was, in fact, about the price of three cans of Rave.
Oh, and I noticed I had stained my outfit with some kind of food particles, in spite of that stupid apron.
Great, just great, I thought. Jesse's going to be here any minute now, and I look like the food I just cooked.
But then again, I also knew that Jesse most likely wouldn't care if I were covered in mud. I mean, he'd probably say something about how unsanitary mud is, but not, "Oh, my God, Suze, you're ugly!"
Not that Jesse would even say Oh my God or Suze. And I don't think he'd say I was ugly.
But you know what I mean.
I still have to look nice for him, I thought. I mean, he is still at a point where he could see a better girl and dump me. Well, he could do that when we were married, but it would have cost him a lot of money to divorce me. Oh, and then there is the added expense of our wedding, which will, if I am not careful, cost just about as much as my college tuition.
Oh my God. I just had to think of that. Jesse would never leave me, and I know it. Why would I even think for one minute that he would dump me for some other girl? Hello, this is Jesse we're talking about! Oh God, Gina and CeeCee were so right—I am a complete and total nervous wreck over nothing, said another, very calm, rational voice in my head, not much different than that voice I had always avoided telling anyone about. I mean, I am not crazy, but other people don't like to know that there's a little voice in your head that tells you what you know in your heart is right.
Getting my thoughts in order, I glanced at the clock again. I had invited Jesse over for dinner at seven-o-clock, which meant I had roughly ten minutes left before Jesse came over. In that ten minutes, I had to change clothes, fix my hair, and set the table.
Oh, and I had to make sure that Kody was okay because he was meowing very loudly from behind the bathroom door, since I'd shut him in my bathroom so Jesse wouldn't see him, and Kody hated being alone.
I checked on Kody—since it was the quickest and easiest task—and then I changed clothes, blindly reaching in and grabbing a slip dress. A little fancy, sure, but it still looked nice, since it was made of a dark red satin material with a black silk sheath over it, with rosebuds on the sleeves. I thought it looked kind of sexy.
Sexy is always good, I suppose.
Then I tackled my hair, which had been in an up-do that had fallen down as I was cooking dinner. I decided that it would be too difficult to redo it, so I took it down and combed the ringlets into soft curls. Then it didn't look so bad.
I went back into the kitchen and looked at the clock again. I had somehow managed to check on the cat, change clothes, and fix my hair in eight minutes—a record timing no doubt—and I had two minutes left to set the table for my Christmas Eve dinner with Jesse.
I quickly covered the table—which had nail-polish remove stains on it, thanks to Gina's homemade pedicure from when she had broken up with her last "serious" boyfriend—with a wine-red table cloth and placed two plates of food onto it, along with silverware—or the best flatware I could find, really, since having real silverware was impractical for two college students living on a budget—and cloth napkins. Then I found the two long, skinny candles I had bought for the occasion and placed them in some pewter candleholders I had found on sale and lit them. Then, as a final preparation, I turned out the light so that the kitchen was bathed in a romantic candlelight.
Then there was a knock on the door, which meant one thing: Jesse had arrived. Taking a deep breath, I went to answer his knock, trying not to make him wait too long, but long enough for him to anticipate seeing me just a bit more.
I opened the door and nearly dropped dead at the sight of him. He was, to massively understate his appearance, gorgeous. He was wearing gray slacks and a black button-down shirt. Then my eyes moved up to his face, and upon seeing his smile, his secret smile just for me, I completely lost my ability to speak in any intelligible manner.
"Oh, er—um—hi, Jesse," I finally managed to squeak out. It had been more than a few seconds since I had answered the door, but standing there in the hallway with him, those few seconds felt like an eternity.
Jesse, whose ability to speak rarely wavered in my presence, said, "Hello, Susannah. You look lovely this evening" in that silky-smooth voice of his.
Which is just completely and totally unfair. I mean, he always says the right thing at exactly the right time, and in exactly the right tone of voice.
And me? I forget how to speak, and my voice is squeaky. Swell.
"Thank you," I said, my mouth going dry, "You look nice, too."
"These are for you," he said, holding out a bouquet of roses, a dozen, all of them red.
I hadn't even noticed that he'd been holding the flowers.
"They're beautiful," I said, blushing stupidly. God, what was wrong with me? "Thank you."
"They're no more beautiful than you are, querida."
After that, my face was burning as if it were on fire.
Which is when you realize that love does indeed do strange things to people. I mean, I probably wouldn't have blushed like that if my mom had said I was beautiful.
Then, when I was no longer completely mortified about the burning of my cheeks, I regained my ability to speak and said, "Thank you," which probably wasn't the best thing I could have said, but given the circumstances, it was the best thing I could come up with.
"I also have your Christmas present," he said, holding out a small box that had been wrapped in shiny red paper, "but you can't have it until after we've eaten dinner because I'm starving." Then he winked at me.
"Well in that case," I said, suddenly feeling very flirty, "you'd better hurry up and get in here." I held the door open and stepped aside.
Jesse had been to my apartment a few times before, but not as often as I had been to his apartment, and I liked to think that maybe it was because I shared my apartment with Gina, and he lived alone…in short, he wanted to be alone with me whenever we were together. With most couples, I was sure that being sure you were alone meant you could, um, get horizontal with no interruption, but in my relationship with Jesse, it meant that no one could ask us questions…questions for which we had no answers.
Like the question of how we'd met.
Or "Where on Earth is Jesse's family? Don't they want to be in town for his special day?"
And, "Why are you two so close to Father Dominic? Sure, he was your high school principal, but not many children choose to remain in contact with their high school principals…."
Yeah, my family—my mother especially—had asked some pretty hard-to-answer questions over the past few years, with the exception of David, who knows…
But I try not to think about David—or Gina, or CeeCee—knowing about my mediating abilities any more than I have to. It's just so weird, knowing that he knows.
So, given all the uncomfortable questions that come up whenever anyone who isn't David, Gina, Father Dominic, or CeeCee is around Jesse and me, Jesse and I prefer to be alone together. Which would be great, except that things are getting awkward between us sometimes because we both know that in approximately six months, we will most likely be seeing each naked, and…
Well, you know.
"I hope you like roast beef, mashed potatoes, and mixed greens," I said nervously because it had just occurred to me: what if Jesse hated my cooking? What would I do?
But I didn't have to worry for too long because Jesse must have been hungry. He ate less than Brad probably would have eaten—and certainly not as grotesquely as Brad would have eaten it—but it was still more food than I would have eaten.
And he said it was really good. He also said it reminded him of the foods his mom used to cook, so I took that as a good sign…and before I knew it, I was sitting there, across from him in the candlelight, watching him eat and thinking about how good he looked and wondering what our children would look like…
"Susannah." Jesse's voice snapped me out of my reverie. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking," I said.
"About…?"
I blushed, although he probably couldn't have seen in the dim light from the candles, and tried to think of something to say. Finally I just blurted out, "What do you think our kids will look like?"
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know," He said quietly. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
Kody let out a particularly loud yowl from the bathroom, which meant he was very unhappy about being left alone.
"I think it's time for presents," I said, even though it gave away what I'd got Jesse for Christmas. Then I got up and went through my bedroom to my bathroom and scooped up the kitten. I'd wanted to tie a ribbon around his collar, but he'd fussed, so I left it alone.
I walked back into the kitchen, but Jesse wasn't there, so I walked into the living room, where Jesse, who would always be nothing less than a gentleman, was standing up and waiting for me to come into the room.
"Merry Christmas. His name is Kody," I said, holding Kody out so Jesse could take him. "I'm sorry if you don't want him, I just thought you'd want another cat…"
Jesse scratched Kody behind the ears, which I knew Kody really liked. Kody purred very loudly for a kitten, almost as loudly as Spike used to purr. "No," Jesse said, grinning, "I like him, Susannah."
I watched him play with Kody for a bit. Watching him love that cat reminded me of what a good father Jesse would make. After Kody fell asleep, Jesse kissed me on the cheek and said, "I think it's time for your Christmas present."
He pulled out the little red box that was covered in shiny red paper. "For you," he said simply, like he was holding out a box of candy.
But it was much more than candy: it was a locket on a small golden chain, which Jesse explained was like one that his mother wore.
"Open it," he said.
I did, and inside there were two small pictures—one of Jesse and one of me.
"Jesse, it's beautiful. Thank you," I said.
"I just wish I could have given you the one my mother wore," he said.
"Jesse," I said softly, taking his hand, wanting to say so many things I didn't know how to say.
But he knew what I wanted to say, and that was the important part—and all that really mattered.
I'm sorry that I have not updated this fanfic for something like two years. I know, that bites. I hate it when people on write something good, then never come back to finish it.
I promise I will finish this someday. I just don't want to rush the ending just to get it over with. I've made that mistake before. Please be patient with me.
Thank you all very much for reading, being patient, and sending kind reviews.
Much love to you all,
BeeBee