Breathless - Jesse Book 1 (19 page)

“Ha. That’s me as a kid.”

“Aww. You were so cute.”

“Look how small that fish is.” I leaned in for a closer look.

“What fish? I don’t see a fish.”

“Right there.” He pointed to a tiny fish dangling on the end of the line, about the size of a minnow. His finger moved to another photo. “Look, here’s a picture of my 65cc bike. That was such a cool bike. Jimmy and I made our own dirt race track on our property. Man, we had a blast.”

“Is this your mom?” I traced my finger across a woman's plastic, covered face. The photo, a professionally taken headshot of a smiling woman with long flowing hair, was marred and dingy, as if at one time it had been rescued from the bottom of a trash can. It had a crack that had once been a fold, whose sharp creased edges had curled up over years. It curved up and separated the surface of the photo into a tiny crevice that ran diagonally across the lower portion of the photo straight through his mother’s heart.

“Yeah.” His voice softened and he stared at the page, like he recognized something familiar in the curve of her smile.

“She’s very pretty. I can see you have her smile.”

 
Then he opened his mouth and the hurt that came out astounded me.

“She...never got over my dad’s death. She has been sick for a long time.”

“I know Jesse. These things are so difficult. How did your father die?”

“A car accident. I was only eight at the time. That’s when my uncle came to live with us for a while. “

The weight of his story sat heavily on my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to bring up sad memories.”

“It’s okay. You know I carry a lot of guilt about my mom. I should have been there to take care of her, not halfway around the fucking world racing. Maybe she wouldn’t have done it. It all happened so fast. One day she was fine and then next, she overdosed on her depression medicine.”

“It’s not your fault, Jesse. People don't do this kind of thing out of nowhere. There’s always an underlying reason. A person can’t watch over someone twenty four-seven. Don’t blame yourself.”

“You don't understand, after my dad died and my uncle left, she became much worse, she became clinically depressed. Jimmy sort of took over and became the man of the family, helped me and my mom. My brother and I swore that we would never abandon her like the other men in her life.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility to put on a child. How old were you when your uncle left? Ten? Did she see a therapist when her depression first started?”

“Yeah, that’s when she got some pills and it seemed like she got a lot better, at least for several years, It wasn’t until I left and started touring and racing all over the world. If I had stayed put she wouldn’t have tried to end her life.”

“I know you said you never went to a therapist...well except for “Jack Daniels” but you need to fire him and see a real therapist.”

“I would never do that.”

“I could go with you. I can take you to my therapist. You really need to talk to someone who can help you work through your feelings, otherwise the guilt is going to eat you up.”

“I didn’t know you had a therapist. Why would you need one? You‘re perfect, Niki.”

“Ha, you’re cute, Jesse. Listen, do it for me. I’m sure your mom is proud of what you have accomplished with your racing.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“This is something a counselor can help you understand. Please, say you will try it.”

“Okay then, I’ll give it a shot, but I don't think it’s going to work.”

I looked at the picture of his mother again and hoped I would meet her someday. I probed at the album page, pressing with my finger. It felt thick.

“What’s this?”

He leaned over for a closer look. “I’m not sure.”

“It feels like there’s something behind the picture, it feels thick, like a paper.”

“Let me see.” Jesse took the album from my hands and pulled a folded, yellow paper from behind the picture of his mother. “It’s a letter.”

Jesse unfolded the dry stiff paper to read. I could see cursive letters written across the width of the page and all the way down, to fill the front side, but the angle at which I was sitting, didn’t allow me to read the words.

 
“A letter?” I could barely contain myself and curiosity jumped in my veins.

Jesse’s face dropped as his eyes scanned over the black ink.

“It’s a love letter.” His voice was low and flat.

“How sweet. From your dad to your mom?” He looked up from the page and his eyes met mine.

“No. From my mom to my Uncle Kenny.”

My eyes widened, but I didn’t want my expression to be taken as judgment.

“Apparently my uncle and my mom were in love with each other at one time.”

Jesse dropped his hand with the letter to his lap. He stared blankly into a corner of the room and allowed this new revelation to sink in. He blew out a short breath and pushed his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Wow. That’s fucked up. I can’t believe my mom and my uncle...I mean, did they….was my uncle banging my mom? Right in our house? His dead brother’s wife? What a prick. I thought he came to help, not take advantage of her.....asshole. I thought he was a good guy and now....What the fuck?”

Jesse’s agitation caused his voice to rise in pitch and the words came faster. I reached over and put an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jesse. But don’t jump to conclusions. It could have been a secret love and though they had feelings for each other, they didn’t act on it.”

Jesse stood up and paced back and forth unable to contain his anger, it spewed out all over the room as he raged on. “What an asshole, what a pervert. We were kids, Jimmy and I, just kids. We looked up to him, we trusted him....I , I loved him. He took care of us, he taught Jimmy and I things we needed, things boys needed. Fuck, I have to talk to him, confront him. That’s what I have to do. I have to know the Goddamn truth, even if it kills me.”

Jesse waved the letter in the air as he spoke. Hurt and confusion burned in his eyes. “Jesse, everyone wants to hold their parents to a higher standard, like they are gods, devoid of human vices. We’ve all done that as a coping mechanism, we idealize our parents, in our mind, to make life more acceptable. Keep an open mind. Give him a chance to explain. ”

Jesse folded the letter and shoved it in his jeans pocket. I closed the album and placed it back on the bookshelf. The tension in the room pushed me towards the door.

“You need to talk to your uncle, so I’ll get out of your hair, but let’s talk more about this later. You should take some time to process the information. It’s a lot to handle. Come over to my place after work and we’ll have a long talk. It will help to vent and get this out of your head.” I stood in front of him and searched his face with my eyes. I felt his hurt, right in my solar plexus. He placed his hands on my shoulders and took a deep breath.

“Okay, Niki. I’m sorry for getting so upset about this. You’re the greatest.” His voice slowed to a normal pitch. “I’ll come over later. Thanks baby.”

Jesse took my face in his hands and kissed me soft and sweet, a sign that things were good with us and we could move forward in our relationship, despite the latest bombshell. He walked me to my car. As I stood there to say farewell, he pushed a strand of hair out of my face. He kissed me again and sent me on my way.

I pulled away from the curb with my heart torn in two directions. I was elated, happy, floating on air about my relationship with Jesse. He agreed to stay in California and I had just had the hottest, most outrageously best sex I’d ever had in my life. However, I was all too familiar with Jesse’s coping mechanisms. He promised me he’d changed, but old habits die hard. And I worried about how he would handle this new turn of events with Kenny.

Jesse

“Where the hell is he?” I threw open the door and stormed into the bar, the betrayal letter burning a hole in my pocket.

Chase looked up while he wiped the black bar counter with a white rag, in large sweeping strokes from side to side.

“Who’s that?”

“My uncle. Fucking Kenny.”

“Whoa dude. You sound pissed.”

“Just tell me where the hell he is.”

“I haven’t seen him for hours. He came in, said he had a doctor’s appointment and hasn’t been back. Have you tried calling him?”

“Shit, he’s not answering. It goes straight to his voicemail.” I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand. Tension pulled at every muscle in my body. Where the fuck was he?

“I hope you’re here to work. There’s a shit load that needs to be done. The set ups need to be refilled, glasses need washing. I could use the help, man.” He gave me a strained look and wiped his hands on the rag. “I know he’s your uncle and all, and I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but it’s getting ridiculous how much time he’s missing from work. I try to cover it, but seriously, something’s gotta give. I’m stretched to my limit here.” He threw the rag under the counter and walked to the other end of the bar. My uncle did a good job of turning me against him and now he pissed off his employee. I had to find him, this shit couldn’t wait.

“Sorry, dude. I have to find out what’s going on. You’re right, this shit sucks. I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I’ll help when I get back, I promise, Chase.” He didn’t turn around and continued to wash glasses behind the bar. I yelled over my shoulder, from the doorway, “I won’t let you down, Chase, just hang in there for a couple more hours and I’ll be back.”

I flew out the door, and pounded my way to the truck. I peeled out of the parking lot and my big wheels jumped the curb. I floored it and headed to the house. I was on a mission to find Kenny and get to the bottom of this. Something was fucking rotten in Denmark and I had to know what it was--right now.

Kenny had never mentioned the name of a doctor but I figured I could go back to the house and search for a clue. He had a habit of opening his mail and throwing it in a pile on a desk with the house phone. I might find a bill, or some paperwork bearing the name of a doctor or clinic. Why was he missing so much work? And the love letter. I still had the fucking letter to deal with.

I slammed my truck into park in the driveway and flew into the house oblivious to everything around me. My mind sifted through thoughts, possibilities of where I could find a clue. I checked my cell phone again. Nothing.

I came down the hallway, my eyes still glued to the phone screen and there he was, sitting on the couch, bent forward with his head in his hands. What the fuck? Was he crying? Did someone die? I froze in place at the edge of the family room, holding the stupid phone like it held all the answers.

“Uncle Kenny. Are you okay? Feeling sick again?” I asked.

Kenny straightened and looked at me with tired watery eyes. “No, no. I’m fine. Just thinking. Going over work schedules in my mind. Come in and sit down.” He motioned for me to sit.

“I talked to Chase and he said you went to a doctor’s appointment this morning but didn’t come back. What’s going on, man?”

“Nothing. I got a little tired and must have fallen asleep here on the couch. I woke up when you came in. I’m just a little groggy from sleeping that’s all. I was about to go back to the bar. What’s going on? Did you want to see me?”

“As a matter of fact, I do have something I need to talk to you about.”

I pulled the letter from my jeans’ pocket and threw it on the glass topped coffee table. Ugly thoughts reared up in my mind and feelings of betrayal, threatened to sting me like a cobra, but I had to know the truth. Kenny was my hero

“I found this in that old green photo album on the shelf in my room. It was stuck behind a picture of my mom.”

The crumpled yellow letter laid on the smoky, glass-top tale, as out of place, as the awkwardness in the room. “Oh shit, I thought I got rid of all of those.” Kenny rubbed the back of his neck and winced. “I suppose you’ve read it.” he said.

“God dammit, is it true? Did the two of you...hook up? You would have to be a fucking snake to do something that low.” I spat the words. Angry and hurt feelings burned like acid in my stomach and with every fiber of my being, I hoped that somehow It wasn’t true.

“Jesse, calm down. Listen….” Kenny began and exhaled a long breath. “Years ago, before you were born, back in high school, we were friends, me, your dad and your mom, all three of us. That’s how it started; we were all best friends. We went to the movies and high school football games. We went on trips together to the lake. Everything was great, it was fun, right up until that fucked up day.”

“What fucked up day?”

“When your mom told me she was pregnant. I knew the baby couldn’t be mine because...well, we were just friends. She told me it was your dad’s. Your grandma was furious. She said they had to get married, so they did, and shortly after, Jimmy was born. You can imagine what that did to us, hell, we were just teenagers. And then, life became serious, too serious for your dad. He ruined everything, couldn’t handle it, the baby, and the responsibility. He started drinking too much, flirted with other girls, and your mom became secluded and withdrawn. It continued until your dad died.

Your mom broke down completely. She was in no shape to handle two boys all by herself, so she asked me if I would help and be there for you and Jimmy...so I did. That’s why I came. I came for you and Jimmy and your mom, of course. I owed it to her; I mean she was still my best friend.”

“So when did she write this letter?”

“Sometime after I left you guys. We were getting too close and I couldn’t do that to the memory of my dead brother. I tried explaining it to your mother, but she wouldn’t listen. She sent many letters, but Jesse trust me, nothing ever happened.”

“But there is one thing I don’t get. If nothing ever happened and if you didn't have any feelings for her, why did you keep this letter?”

“I forgot it was there, thought I’d gotten rid of them.” Kenny threw his hands in the air.

I wasn’t sure how to handle Kenny’s explanation. Part of me was relieved, but it had changed how I thought of my mother. It was odd to think of her as a teenager with an unexpected pregnancy. To me she was a saint, devoid of any human vulnerability, but now I realized she was only human. A crap load of shit had been dropped on me since this morning. Hell, I was packing to go back to New York and now...fuck. I leaned forward and put my head in my hands.

The trill of Kenny’s phone broke the silence. He placed the phone to his ear like it was made of brittle glass. The puff of air from his movement blew the crumpled paper and it fell to the floor.

“Hello. Yes, this is he. I see. Yes. Yes. I understand. Will my health insurance cover that? Okay. Thank you.”

He ended the call and I slowly lifted my head from my hands. Kenny’s face was white. He looked tired and spent. He let out a long breath and carefully set the phone on the table. He looked drained in an instant and something pull at my heart. How could I be mad at him when he looked so pathetic?

“Who was that on the phone? And don’t say nobody. You look like you just got kicked in the balls by a horse. Now tell me. What’s going on?”

Kenny stared in silence for a moment and leaned back, tilting his head against the couch. He spoke slowly and deliberately, letting the words float out into the ethers of the room, like black ghosts that filled the room with darkness.

“That was my doctor. I have cancer.”

What the fuck - I shrunk in my seat. Words wouldn’t come to my mouth. The only word that formed in my mind was, fuck.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! FUCK!!!

First dad, then my mom and now my uncle? How much more fucking pain was life gonna deal me? My goddamn mouth was dry and my throat closed up. It felt like a large hand wrapped around my neck, choking the shit out of me. I squeezed my eyes shut, to avert the urge to throw anything and everything within my reach. I wanted to bust up something really bad. I forced myself to keep myself under control. It wouldn’t do any good to act a fool in front of Kenny. A thousand questions burned in my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask, so I just said the next most stupid thing.

“What kind of cancer?”

“Leukemia. It’s a cancer of the blood. He signed a long breath. “I wasn’t going to tell you, or anyone, yet. But I can’t do this alone. It kills me to have to be weak, to need someone else’s help but ...”

“I don’t know what Leukemia is, or what it looks like when someone has it, but what can I do to help? Do you want me to take over at the bar while you get better? I mean, what kind of treatment will you need?”

“I need a transplant.”

“Like a lung, or kidney, or what? I could do that, give you one of mine. If it’s a kidney you need, well mine might be kind of pickled from all the booze but...”

“It’s not like that, Jesse. I need a bone marrow transplant. I need someone who is a perfect match, or else my body will reject it. My own immune system will think it’s invading my body, as a threat to my system and my body will kill it.”

“Oh Jesus, Kenny.” I ran my hand through my hair, brainstorming a strategy. “That’s no big deal. We can find a match. Maybe I’m a match. Someone will match.”

“I’m sorry Jesse, that’s very noble of you, but the doctor said most of the time a perfect match comes from a person’s children and I never had kids.”

“What about a close relative?”

“Like a brother? I only had one brother, your father, and he’s dead, remember?”

“What about a nephew, like me or Jimmy? How do we find out if we are a match? What do we have to do, cause I’ll do anything.”

“Maybe, but doubtful. I already asked the doctor. Nephews are not a good possibility, only a slight chance of being a match. Don’t get your hopes up Jesse.”

I was afraid to ask the next question. “And if you don’t find a match...”

“Well, if I don't find a match, then it’s all over, my life is done.”

“What about taking medicine, like pills of some kind, or radiation, or chemotherapy?” I had heard about these treatments on the TV news, but the report I saw made it sound awful. I was desperate to help, but I was running out of ideas.

“None of that will save my life, there’s nothing, only a bone marrow transplant.”

“How do we find out if I’m a match? What do I do?”

“You go give a sample of your DNA.”

“Oh shit, how the hell are they going to get that? That sounds kind of scary.”

“No, it’s not.” He laughed a weak laugh. “I believe they take a swab of the inside of your mouth with one of those, giant -sized cotton swabs. I think you’ll survive.”

It was a relief to hear Kenny laugh. Despite my initial shock, I was ready to fight for my uncle. I wasn’t a fucking quitter.

“I’ll do it. Tell me when and where. I’m your man and if it helps, I’ll get Niki to do it, and Chase, and Kat and all the friends I can think of. There just might be a match among one of them, you never know.”

“I can’t thank you enough but it’s still going to be a long road ahead of me and I hate to ask you for even more than you’ve already done. I’m going to need your help at the bar and if I don’t get a perfect donor match, well....” He took a deep breath.

“Don’t even go there. Don’t even think that way. Set up the test with the doctor or whoever and let me know the time and place. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you Jesse. You are a good kid, I mean a good man.”

“Just promise me one thing Kenny, don’t keep secrets from me ever again. We are family, families don't keep secrets.”