The Choice

Chapter 8, The Choice

Chapter Eight

Sam loved Jesse like a brother, even after the angry rift that had torn their friendship apart; Elise—his first love—his wife. Maybe that was why he understood how Jesse could assume the worst about Marcie, why he had questioned the backpack.

Marcie was in the bathroom, attempting to compose herself. Water trickled from the bathroom tap, squeaking through old pipes, cutting through the silence. Jesse impatiently drummed his fingers on the checkered kitchen counter.

"Sam, what the fuck was that about a dream, and what did she lie about? She did something wrong? This whole thing isn't sitting right in my gut. Could you fill me in?" Jesse lowered his agitated voice.

Sam pushed aside the scattered papers on the corner desk in the cluttered living room. "I don't know. She's freaked out about something and was about to tell me when you showed up."

Jesse crossed his arms and firmed his full lips. "Please don't tell me you've been fooled by yet another pretty face?"

Sam turned away from his cleaning spree and leaned his hip against the half wall separating the living room from the kitchen. "She's not Elise, and I think you know that. Elise was street smart, savvy...."

Jesse cut him off with a grunt. "Elise hopped in and out of the back of cars with any guy who'd offer her a free ride. Then she'd empty their wallets. She was a player. She'd steal anything she could flip for money. She planned to go into a store to take. She had no morals. Did you forget her first abortion at fifteen, a second at seventeen? And you, you dumbass, took her and paid for each one; even though neither was yours."

Sam's eyes glazed over with a frosty, distant hurt. He gritted his teeth, shook his head. "Why are you doing this? Why now?"

Jesse shuffled closer to Sam. "Don't you think it tore my heart out to watch you twisted around her finger? You couldn't see what she was doing. She went from one guy to the next, and you were always sitting by the sidelines. What'd you promise her so she'd marry you?"

Grief and anger waged an ugly war inside of Sam. He glared at Jesse, then snapped, "I dared her, because I knew it was the only way she would. Are you happy now?"

Jesse didn't touch him, but his gruff voice softened. "I was never happy watching the way you were ripped apart from the back forty. I knew you loved her, and maybe she loved you, too, as much as she could. But she was never honest with you, and that I can't forgive her for."

The floor squeaked behind Sam. "Good God, woman, you scared me. How long you been standing there?"

"Long enough. Jesse, I hope to God I'm not dishonest. Just the thought..."

"Marcie, Jesse isn't saying that."

She stepped closer to Sam. "Well, actually, Sam, Jesse's trying to protect you from being hurt and deceived by another woman. He's watching your back. Friends don't come any better than that." She crossed her arms. "I'm thinking I did something. I don't know what's going on, but I seem to be picking up on feelings and stuff...." Her hand shook when she paused. "I have a feeling I may be listed under a different name."

"And what name might that be?" Jesse responded.

Sam ran his hand up and down the back of his head, pacing in a circle over by the balcony.

Marcie shrugged, seeming like a frightened child. "I don't know. It's just a feeling I have."

"Jesse, you should be able to find out from security at Sea-Tac airport."