A Love for Jesse

Author's Note:

This is a sequel to "To Be Wanted". I had a number of comments that the story seemed to be a bit abrupt. Well, truth is it wasn't. I'd intended to make it quite a bit longer but... well, damn it, life sometimes intrudes. Obviously, Jessica and Jesse are the same person. Maybe sometime, I'll find the energy to combine the two stories into one, as I'd originally intended.

Thanks to techsan for his editing.

Tennessee Waltz (© acuff rose music, inc.) was written by Pee Wee King and Redd Stewart.

Never Ending Love was

written by Delaney Bramlett & Bonnie Lynn O'Farrell (1971)

Chapter One

JESSICA -- The Long Sad Goodbye

As I drove down the highway I mused over my dilemma -- I was literally all dressed up with no place to go. I had been ready for my date with my fiancé to go out for dinner and maybe some dancing. He was late but that was not unusual - he did that all the time.

Finally, after an hour of waiting, I called him. The cell phone rang a couple of times and I thought he wasn't going to answer. Then I could hear his voice faintly over the line; I could hear loud music in the background and what sounded like many people talking, laughing, and shouting.

"Hello, hello! Is anyone there?" Gerald was asking.

"Gerry! It's me, Jesse."

"Wait a minute."

There was a sudden lowering of the background noise as I heard a door closing.

"Jesse, you still there?"

"Yeah, Gerry. I've been waiting for an hour!"

"Jesse, babe, I'm sorry. Something came up at the last minute -- this party, see? I couldn't get out of it. Hey, babe! I'll make it up to you. I'll come over tomorrow and you can fix me dinner, right? See you later then. Bye babe."

As he was saying goodbye, I could hear a voice in the background, "Hey, lover, there you... " as the call ended.

I knew he was with another woman. The hints were all there and I should have picked up on them better. One of my friends told me she saw Gerry in a bar dancing with a blond. I was defensive, "Oh, you must be mistaken! I know Jerry was visiting his mom that night."

Another time he smelled strongly of a perfume I didn't use. "Jesse, that was my sister. She gave me a big hug right after she put some on, I'd given her form a bottle for her birthday.

But worse than everything was that this was the third time in the last two weeks that Gerry hadn't show up for a date. Did I mean so little to him as that? I wanted his love so much! I was tired of being lonely ... I was just tired -- of everything.

The traffic was light. I'd expected that; this was a Wednesday evening in mid-January after the holiday season rush for the slopes. Not that I really cared. I had no interest for the life I was leaving -- looking back in the rear-view mirror I saw no memories to cherish. The winter wonderland of the snow flurries flirting with the tall pines flashing implacably by the windows impressed no image of beauty as a new memory to be pulled gently from my mind and shared as a treasured moment with a loved one. There were no loved ones to share with.

As I went through the tunnel, heading for Dillon, I grimaced distastefully as I realized that Gerry was never going to change. He would keep up his womanizing even after we got married! I hardened my heart to complete what I had set out to do. I was headed for a roadside park just west of Dillon that I knew would be deserted. I didn't want to go to a place where I wouldn't be found for months -- that would be too hard on my Aunt and Uncle.

Yes, this would be perfect. Sometimes a trucker on a long haul might stop there for some sleep but that shouldn't pose a problem. "I'll be sleeping too," I mused. After Gerry had hung up on me, I had watched the evening news with "Stormy" my favorite for doing the weather. I liked "Sunny", too, the one that did the daytime weather, but he was too optimistic. Stormy had said that with the cloud cover lifting, it was going to be very cold in the high country. At seven thousand feet, where I was, it should be about fifteen below. That would be perfect.

I saw the turnoff ahead, and slowed for the entrance. There were no cars visible in either direction this late at night. There was little chance anyone else would drive in now. I parked near the restrooms, closed of course, and sat there quietly for a moment, composing myself. Finally, I took an envelope from my purse, turned on the dome light, and read my note for the final time.

Dear Aunt Bea,

I'm sorry for what I'm doing to you. I know this will be hard for you to understand -- I'm not sure I understand it myself.

I feel so alone, I cry at night as I try to sleep. I can't go on, I just can't. I've wanted to be loved. To have someone to be mine, to share a life with, a house, kids. Oh God, ... I wanted kids so bad!

My life has seemed always separated from others. I might be in the park, watching lovers, arm in arm, giving each other that special secret smile; that smile no one has ever given me! I would watch as they put their arms around each other and shared a love I could only dream of. How would it be to be wanted like that?

If I could find someone to love me, I want him to say good morning as the dawn glows in the east, and to say goodnight as the last rays of the setting sun fades over the mountain peaks. I want a man that will always be mine; be there for me, for my children. Where is this man? Where is the special someone God meant for me?

He's not here. He never was here. And now... he never will be, as I will be alone... forever!

Oh, Aunt Bea. It's too much for me anymore!

You and Uncle Hank are the only ones that ever cared for me,

Love, Jesse

The tears were sliding down my face, splashing on the page, running the ink in places. As I rolled the window down, the cold sweet air came wafting gently into the car, the scent from the pines heavy in the still air. I turned the dome light off. It was a clear cold night in the Colorado Mountains, the temperature twelve below and falling slowly. My mind as slowly drifted to thoughts of my life... my body chilling as it became one with the coldness lurking in my heart! I just wanted... to fade away quietly in the icy darkness. I said goodbye to my bitter memories -- a long sad goodbye.

Chapter Two

CAL -- The edge of death

I rubbed the back of my neck trying to work out the knots formed from driving for hours hunched over the steering wheel, watching for slick spots on I-70; squinting through the occasional snow flurries.

"It sure has been a hectic trip," I mused. When my sister had called from Grand Junction about the baby, I had just come off a twelve-hour shift as an intern at the Hospital at the University of Colorado in Denver. I had graduated last spring and after my internship I was moving to Grand Junction to be near my family, and to be near the open country I so loved. It was a great thought, Caleb Townsend a doctor! It did have a certain ring to it.

I'd been able to grab a couple of hours sleep before I started on the trip across the state. I had been lucky: the traffic was light and the weather was great. There were a few light snow flurries but that was nothing for my big F-250 four-wheeler. It actually belonged to the family ranch near Rifle but I had been using it all through school.

Jan had a difficult delivery but the tiny pink creature, so obviously a girl, made the trip worthwhile. After a quick visit at the hospital, I had time to run out to the ranch for dinner and a good night's sleep and then back to the hospital to visit some more with my sister and brother-in-law, Tad. Time got away from me and I was late heading back to Denver for my scheduled midnight shift. I stopped at Vail for some coffee and a quick steak and made sure to fill my thermos.

Back on the road, I pushed it a little but was finally getting close to Dillon; I was looking at maybe an hour and a half more driving to get to Denver. I was getting a little sleepy and it was just ten o'clock so I pulled into the roadside park I sometimes stopped at. I figured a cup of coffee and a short walk in the crisp; cold air would still get me to the hospital in good time and wide awake.

There was a car there, which surprised me. I pulled next to an older Chevy -- somewhat the worse for wear - on the passenger side and got out, something not seeming quite right! I walked around the car; the driver's window was rolled down. I jerked open the door seeing a woman inside as the dim overhead light came on. I put my hand to her throat to check for a pulse and was surprised how lovely she was... an aura of childlike innocence surrounding her; her exposed skin the color of alabaster - translucently white from the cold.

I felt a thready pulse, a last gasp at life beating a melancholy farewell. On her lap was what looked like a letter -- instinctively I crammed in my pocket. Knowing I didn't have much time I unfastened her seat belt, picked her up and laid her across the seat of the truck. Not taking the time for the seat belt I lifted her head on my lap and started the truck, turning the heater on high. On an impulse, I jumped out and rolled her car window up.

Grabbing my cell phone, I called 911, told them who I was, and asked them to alert the Vail Valley Medical Center, about twenty miles back on I-70 in Vail. It wasn't more than twenty minutes from where I was to the hospital, and I knew I could get there before the ambulance could have even arrived at the roadside park. With no cars on the road, I made good time and as I pulled up to the emergency entrance, they were outside waiting for me.

While they put her on a gurney, taking her inside the hospital, I walked in with the doctor pulling duty, telling her what I knew; I didn't tell her about the car window being open or the note. The doctor nodded and went to treat the girl for hypothermia.

A nurse pointed out a phone I could use to call my hospital. I got hold of the supervising physician and explained what had happened. She agreed to bring in one of the on-call interns and, as a result, I wouldn't have to work for three days and then it would be the noon to midnight shift.

I would be in the way while they worked on the girl so I went down for coffee. As I reached for change in my pocket, I found the letter. I went ahead with the coffee and sat down to take a look at what it said.

As I started reading it, tears came to my eyes. When the nurse came down later to give me an update, the letter was folded tightly in my hands and tears were running down my face, dripping slowly onto the table. She put her hand on my shoulder, gently, and said the doctor wanted to see me.

The attending physician was waiting for me by the nurse's station, a sad look on her face.

"If you had found her a half hour later... well, it's good you found her when you did. I think she's going to lose the two outside toes on her left foot, and possibly the small finger on her left hand -- it's too early to tell on that. Otherwise, I think she will be okay -- I don't see any long-term problems.

Chapter Three

JESSICA -- A girl alone

Jessica was a plain girl, not by God's plan, but by her clothes, her lack of knowledge of how to present herself and from the crushing blows events in her life had dealt to her self-esteem. By looking in the mirror and seeing a plain, mousy girl, she became one.

In school she never became part of one of the girlish cliques that form; rather she was always the outsider, forever being mocked and made an object of ridicule. Children can be cruel in a very ugly way and Jessica was all too often chosen as a target of that cruelty; no one stood up for her, no one befriended her.

Her parents lived on a small farm outside of Durango, a small place with the pump outside and a one-holer out back. The farm was about 500 feet higher than Durango's 6500-foot elevation and winters were harsh! Her mom made most of her clothes -- what wasn't made was bought second-hand and they made her appear dowdy.

When Jessica was ten her dad disappeared; he just wasn't around anymore. She didn't say anything for a few days but finally got the gumption to ask her mom. The answer devastated what little sense of self-worth she had left.

"Damn old fart! He done said he didn't want no old crow of a wife and a girl kid to hold him down. He tooken off with that redhead floozy at that dance hall of Hank's. Good riddance I say!"

Jessica obsessed with the idea that her dad never wanted her! Her mom was never affectionate; many were the nights her pillow was damp with the tears slowly sliding down her cheeks -- each one a testament to her sadness. Each tear lessened her expectations from life; each tear left behind a growing well of bitterness, a sense of worthlessness.

They held onto the farm, barely. By raising chickens and selling chickens and eggs, plus some sewing by both of them, they scrimped by. Jesse (as she thought of herself) began making most of her own clothes when she was fourteen. She had a sense of style but the material she had to work with was second-rate at best.

High school was better in many ways but she still suffered intense loneliness, sometimes bordering on depression. She wasn't picked as an object of ridicule anymore but she also didn't have any friends. She was never asked to go to a dance and the few dates as such were disasters. She knew she could get more dates by being "friendlier" but somehow, she had developed a stubborn pride in herself... and in her own thoughts, a pitiful dream of finding that special person that God had chosen for her.

She put all her energies into her studies, taking all the advanced placement courses she could. She was rewarded by being offered a full-ride scholarship to Ft. Lewis College, including room and board. She wound up with one of the few single rooms in the dorm and was able to keep it all three years she was there. She went to summer school each year and took more than a full course load, planning to finish early.

Once she was safely ensconced in her dorm her mom sold the farm and took off, telling Jessica, "It's my time now. I've done worked hard and I'm gonna go git me some life before it be passin' me by." She took off for Tucson and Jesse never saw her again.

She had never really had fun in her life so she reasoned if she didn't expect it she wouldn't be disappointed when it didn't come. This perverted logic got her through Ft. Lewis in a never-never land of neither being happy or unhappy.

The summer after her freshman year her Aunt Bea called from Golden and told her that her mom had died in Flagstaff in a car accident two weeks before and had been buried before anyone knew what had happened. Bea invited her to visit her in Golden for a couple weeks between classes and it was so nice she did it each summer.

Jesse found in her aunt and uncle a love she had never received from anyone else but they were of an older generation and couldn't see or understand her unhappiness. When she got the scholarship to the School of Mines in Golden, her Aunt Bea insisted she live with them.

She had met Gerry and fell in love and was so happy to be loved. Her dream of a caring man and children had seemed within reach. But, then...

Chapter Four

CAL -- A spark of interest

The emergency room physician gave me an update on the "ice maiden" as I thought of her. When she told me the girl's status, bout her losing two toes for sure, and possibly one of her fingers, I nodded, thinking. We talked it over, and agreed that when she was able, I would move her to the UC Hospital in Denver. I didn't tell her about the note, and didn't tell her that I was planning on setting up some counseling sessions for her with my psych prof I'd had for two classes in school.

I knew what she had tried to do but, as yet, no one else did. I couldn't figure out why I had reacted this way and not said anything to the doctor. Some instinct made me think she would have a better recovery if there wasn't a lot of publicity about her attempted suicide. She would certainly have to have counseling but I didn't want it to be court mandated. I wasn't really sure of the law -- this was a visceral, gut-level reaction.

I went in to see her for a minute before I left but she was half awake and half asleep. She looked so vulnerable, lying there on the hospital bed. My heart went out to her as I thought about that note and what her life must have been like. I left and drove on over the pass and down into Denver to my apartment.

The next morning after a late breakfast, I called Aaron Spaulding, my old prof. Aaron's brother was a long-time friend of my dad ... that's how I had wound up taking several of his classes. We met in Aaron's office and I told him everything that had happened, showed him the note, and asked him if he would work with the girl.

Aaron looked at me solemnly for a few minutes, and said, "Caleb, I want you to think for a minute, and tell me everything you did wrong on this!"

I was quiet for a minute, not really thinking since I had done nothing but think about it, especially about holding on to the note and rolling the window up. I proceeded to tell the professor step by step, what I had done and what I should have done.

"Okay, Cal, I see you at least remembered a couple things from all those years of med school. Now tell me what you did right."

I looked at him, puzzled a minute, then enlightenment dawning, I said, "Well, I guess what I did right was everything I did wrong!"

Aaron looked at me, as proud as if I were his son. I thought at that minute I became a doctor, understanding that there was more to medicine than the science: caring for people was as important.

"Cal, a doctor is not God but neither is he a cop. Now I haven't met the girl yet, but my instincts are the same as yours are. From the note I think she is a girl that needs someone to love her, to care for her. I think she almost died of sadness, nothing else. She needs professional help for her to find a sense of self-worth, but she also needs kindness and someone to make her feel worthy, wanted.

"As a doctor I can't really condone what you did but as a man I might have done the same thing."

Sounding more formal, he continued, "Now, Caleb, what are the ethics involved in a doctor getting romantically involved with his patient?"

Struggling with that a minute, I looked down at the floor, remembering that sad alabaster face. She wasn't pretty, at least not in the usual sense, but there was an attractiveness that pulled at my heart. It hit me all of a sudden.

"Well, Aaron, I do believe that means her attending physician can't take her dancing!"

"Damn, Cal! You are just too smart for me. Now I'm not the one to work with her but I think I know the right person. I can see that you have an interest in her -- and that's probably what she needs. Maybe there is something there for you, maybe not. I would just caution you -- seeing as how you are

not

her physician -- that if you want to spend time with her just go slow.

"There is a danger that if she is given too much kindness, and maybe love, that she will become dependent on the person that is giving it to her. I'm sure you remember this from my lectures. If you want, if it comes to that, be a friend, be helpful; above all though if you come to share feelings with her make sure you are on an emotionally equal footing with her. Don't become her crutch.

"Now, thanks in advance for lunch... you're buying."

We went to this great Mexican place a bit southwest of downtown Denver, right across the railroad tracks. The place specialized in Chile Rellenos; the chef deep fried them and covered them with green chili, lettuce and jalapenos. They were really great -- if you liked a portion of the fires of hell for lunch! The smallest beer they served was a pint and that was called a Tiny.