“No need to be sorry, Sister. You do good work.”
“God’s work,” she said.
It was odd to hear her talk that way, Jesse thought. Even though he called her Sister, he didn’t think of her, in her tank top and shorts and ornate Nike running shoes, as religious.
“He’s lucky to have you,” Jesse said.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Across the table, through the candle flicker, Jenn’s face looked like no other. Objectively, Jesse knew there were other women as good-looking as Jenn. But that was, at best, a factual conceit. At the center of his self, Jesse knew that she was the most beautiful woman in existence.
“You don’t see that Abby person anymore, do you?” Jenn said.
She was wearing a short red-and-blue flowered dress with thin shoulder straps. When he had arrived at her condo, Jesse had noticed the amount of leg showing between the hem of the dress and the top of her high black boots.
“No,” Jesse said. “Not socially.”
“How about Marcy Campbell?”
On the table between them was a bottle of Riesling, a bottle of Merlot and a bottle of sparkling water. Jesse poured her some Riesling and himself some sparkling water.
“I see Marcy sometimes,” Jesse said. “We’re friends.”
“Sex?” Jenn said.
“Do I ask you about your sex life?”
“Yes,” Jenn said. “You do.”
“And do you tell me about it?” Jesse said.
“I admit to one.”
“Me, too,” Jesse said.
The table was set with linen napkins and good china. Jenn always liked a nice table. On a board between them she had set out an assortment of cheeses. There was French bread on a cutting board. There were apples and black grapes in a bowl.
“You don’t want to walk into the sunset with Marcy,” Jenn said.
“No. We’re friends. We sleep together sometimes. Neither of us wants to marry the other one.”
“She came to see me after Stiles Island,” Jenn said. “We talked about you.”
Jesse sliced some bread, took a piece, and ate it with some blue cheese. He sipped some sparkling water. With the good bread and the strong cheese, the sparkling water tasted thin.
“She likes you,” Jenn said. “She wondered what the future was for you and me.”
“What did you tell her?” Jesse said.
“That I didn’t know.”
“At least you’re consistent,” Jesse said.
“Anyone else in your life?” Jenn said.
“Woman who’s a school principal in Swampscott.”
“And of course you’re sleeping with her, too.”
Jesse nodded.
He felt the hot feeling he always felt with Jenn when they talked about sex: anger, and desperation, and excitement, and confusion. About her, about himself.
“I like her,” he said.
“Because you can fuck her?” Jenn said.
“No. The other way,” Jesse said. “I can fuck her because I like her.”
Jenn turned her wineglass by the stem. Jesse drank some more sparkling water. He hated the insufficiency of the water. It was like breathing at a high altitude.
“And you like her why?”
“She’s smart,” Jesse said. “She’s good-looking, she seems nice, and she likes baseball.”
“You know I date,” Jenn said.
“Yes.”
“I often sleep with my dates,” Jenn said.
“I know,” Jesse said.
Jenn stopped twirling her wineglass and drank from it.
