Rules of Escape

Chapter 25 - Jesse

After talking to Joe, Jesse turns off his phone. Evan and Grandpa are fine. They just had a little scotch. Mayhem is not breaking out. Jesse hasn't played a part in setting the stage for wild parties.

Jesse rolls over on the bed and unmutes his TV. The kids are asleep. They had had too much sun today and are exhausted. After an easy fast food dinner, they had their baths, and went to their bedrooms to read books. He flips through channels, but nothing catches his interest.

The babysitter left when Jesse arrived home. He had called to say he would bring dinner home. Once home, he invited her to stay, but she refused. She had blushed and said that she had another commitment. Had he overstepped his boundaries? He isn't interested in her, was just trying to be nice. He did like her company, but not in a romantic sense. Anyway, the babysitter is young, in her early twenties, and still living with her parents.

Why is everything so complicated? Jesse wonders. Women, Evan, work, the kids. In the olden days, he would have gone to work and everyone else including the kids and Evan and Grandpa would be at home helping each other. Now everyone wants to live in their separate houses and pay for, or hope the government will pay for, the extra help they need. It just makes no sense.

Jesse turns out his bedroom light. The problems of the world start with the home. The problem with the world, Jesse suspects, is that everyone needs help but everyone lives separately. What used to be offered for free in exchange for room and board, now has to be bought. Jesse turns off his TV.

It doesn't matter that Evan and Grandpa are drinking scotch. What the hell is wrong with that? The worst that could happen would be that someone would report Joe, saying that the environment he was providing was not good for either of them. Why should Jesse care? He has his own family to worry about. Maybe he should consider himself for a change. Yeah, Jesse thinks. That would be a change of pace.

Jesse clicks his phone on. He scrolls through his contacts. He wants to call someone, go on a date. Lose himself for a few hours. Do something spontaneous and fun. He has hundreds of contacts. Not one is a person he can call to go on a date. He has a few male buddies. Maybe one of them would want to go to a hockey game with him. What did guys do when they hung out, anyways? He has no idea. It has been years since he has done something without his kids. Five years actually. He hasn't done anything except work and look after his kids since his wife died.

Shit, he thinks. Sara would kick my ass if she were still alive. She'd kick it hard and then she'd kiss me. Melt my frown, fade my anger, change my mind. She'd be ashamed of me now.

Sara had known she would die. Days before she died, she had told him to date. To find someone that would be a good mom. But not someone prettier than her, she had said, and laughed. They both had laughed. Days before she died, she still had a sense of humour. She still made him laugh, even as he cried.

Everywhere he looks, he sees her. Each time Jesse and the kids move into a new house, bigger and better than the one before, the first thing Jesse does is hang pictures of Sara. He has tried so hard to keep the memories of her alive for the children. But the kids keep getting older, keep changing. The pictures on the walls show the kids as toddlers. It kills him that they are forgetting their mother. What can he do? They are getting bigger before his eyes. Soon, they will leave him, too.

Jesse looks around his bedroom. They are such cute little kids. Little kids. He goes downstairs, searching his house for pictures. There is not one recent picture of his girls. He knows they are still in elementary school, but Cheryl must be getting close to starting high school. How old are they anyway? Sara's mom takes care of the birthday parties. She likes planning them, she says. Jesse has participated, but always at the last minute. An afterthought.

Jesse sinks to the ground. He puts his head in his hands and begins to cry. He can't remember ordering school pictures. He must have. He hasn't. Everything stopped when Sara died. He died. He thought he was being strong. He kept working. The kids went to school. He bought what they needed. He is a good provider, isn't he?

Sara's voice echoes in his mind. "It doesn't matter what you do, as long as they laugh. Make sure they laugh," she had said.

When was the last time they had laughed? Jesse looks to the ceiling, pulling at his hair. The last time? They had laughed - surely they laugh, sometimes. He remembers a soccer practice. His girls had been laughing about something. They had clutched each other for support, they had laughed so hard. Across the field, he couldn't hear what they were saying, but he knew they were laughing. And just a few days ago, he had heard them laughing when he arrived home.

They laugh. Despite Jesse, they had laughed.

Jesse curls up on the cold tile of the kitchen floor, hugging himself as tears wash over his face. Sara, he thinks, I really need you. It should have been me that died. You were my life. You were the heart of our family.

Jesse feels a light touch on his shoulder.

"Daddy? Dad, are you okay? Did you fall?"

Jesse looks up into his youngest daughter's eyes and gasps. Makayla looks just like a young version of Sara. She stands over him in her fluffy pink pajamas, a concerned look on her face.

"No, no, no. I'm okay. I'm fine." Jesse tries to clamber to his feet, aggressively wiping his face with one hand, but Makayla is grasping his other hand and not letting him stand properly.

"Tell me what's wrong, Dad. I'm ten now, maybe I can help."

Jesse can't help smiling and his eyes begin to water again. He can't say a thing. He swallows, trying to regain his composure.

"You're missing mom again, aren't you?" Makayla asks.

Again? Had he been that transparent? Jesse stares at the floor. He can only nod. Makayla wraps her strong arms around him.

"Then cry, Daddy. Cry until you have no more tears. That's what Mom said to do. She told me I had to cry whenever I felt like it so I wouldn't feel guilty about being happy and laughing, later."

Jesse hiccoughs. This time he can't stop the tears and he doesn't try. His daughter passes him tissues, keeping one arm tight around him. When he is done, he realizes that four arms are around him.

Jesse sits up, blows his nose one final time, and leans back against the kitchen counters. His daughters stand next to him, watching him and occasionally looking at each other. He feels so silly, not like a parent at all.

"So now what?" Jesse asks.

"Mom said when you're done crying, then you get to have a treat," Cheryl says. "You can have a cookie, or ice cream, or hot chocolate - basically, whatever you want." Cheryl spreads out her arms displaying the kitchen. "You just can't have too much or you'll get fat and then you'll want to cry again."

"Mom said all that?"

"Yes," his girls reply, nodding their heads emphatically.

Jesse feels an ache in his chest. "Well, I want whatever it is you two usually have, but I want my girls to share my treats with me."

Jesse watches as Cheryl starts making hot chocolate and Makayla begins dishing ice cream into three bowls which she then tops with one chocolate chip cookie each. Cheryl moves calmly, carefully stirring the hot chocolate powder into cups of hot water. Each drink is expertly prepared with a small squirt of whipping cream and dusting of cocoa powder on top. Makayla dances around the kitchen, clearly happy to have an excuse for a late night treat.

Cheryl still has the blond straight hair she had been born with, but now has a tall slim figure. Her bright, grey eyes are rimmed with mascara that she hasn't washed off properly. When did she start wearing makeup? Makayla is more robust, with dark eyes and soft, dark, curly hair. Makayla has laughed and bounced since the day she was born. She hasn't changed too much Jesse notices, as he watches her carry bowls of ice cream to the kitchen table. His daughters are so beautiful, so incredible, it takes his breathe away.

As they eat, Jesse proposes a toast to strong, intelligent, young woman. To his daughters. He then starts asking his daughters questions. It is awkward at first - there is so much he doesn't know about them. Gradually it gets easier, and then Makayla and Cheryl start asking Jesse questions.