The Trouble With Apples and Trees

Deception

The pair of heavy duty industrial safety earmuffs covering his ears shields Jesse’s eardrum from suffering the full brunt of the decibels given off by the shrill, unbroken whine of the power saw. He drives the revolving blade through length after length of wood that he’s supposed to use to fashion the cupboards for Mrs. Halligan’s kitchen renovation one county over. 

On account of the most recent curve ball life had decided that he had the will to play, his list of projects is pretty backed up. More than likely, he’ll have to pull a few all-nighters to play catch up for his delinquency.

An image of Tullisa sitting with him late in the night, while he works, pops into his mind. Before it can take root, Jesse weeds it away. The workshop is no place for any kind of distraction and he has no plans of entertaining that kind. 

His father had built this business from the ground up with nothing but a few hundred dollars, blind faith, efficiency, reliability and a lot of hard work. It had taken him decades -- from the age of sixteen -- to raise it from the ground into what it is today.

At the rate that he is going, on this path of dereliction of duty, if he doesn’t get his s**t in gear, Jesse knows that he is bound to ruin his father’s good name and lose a few customers along the way. That’s not how he wants to carve out his own legacy. One month ago, his father had handed down the business to him, quite abruptly, packed up his wife and moved to the tail end of the country. 

“I’ve done my part, son,” he’d said. “Now it’s your turn to do yours. Make your old man proud. It’s time to start over, Jess.”

Jesse had been too stunned by the suddenness of it all to respond. Imagining Tullisa as his new beginning had also come as shock. Particularly because the two of them aren’t exactly on the best of terms right now.

Different thoughts of her have slowly been driving him mad. That’s why he hasn’t been able to focus and the workshop. He sees her in so many different ways -- as the little girl who’d dogged his every step, as the budding woman who’d asked him to teach her how to kiss, as the friend who’d left school and driven home to hodd his hand while they’d lowered his son’s little casket, that he’d built himself, into the ground. The most disturbing image of her always comes late at night after he’s settled down by himself in the large plantation house. Whether he’s in bed or lying on the sofa watching a game, she always joins him. 

The house sits on acres of grassland. Other than Tullisa and Lily across the stream, he has no neighbours. It gets really quiet and lonely once the sun sets. Not too long ago, Jesse had enjoyed the solitude since tragedy had turned him into a solitary man. The only sounds keeping him company, then, come from the creatures that live for the darkness and the wind whistling across the grass and through branches and leaves. That’s when Tullisa really steals into his thoughts. He usually drifts off into sleep imagining her smiling face hovering over his, filling in the void of the woman who owns the hands which had gripped his sides while he’d moved inside her that night. He remembers it and yet, he doesn’t. Whenever his mind tries to fit in the missing pieces, it’s always Tullisa that he sees. 

A tornado comes storming through the opened doors, cutting through the saw dust swirling around in the air of the workshop, shouting his name and spitting profanities at him. With his back towards the door, and the machine swallowing up her voice, Jesse sees and hears none of it. Until the instrument in his hand powers down, he has no idea that he has company. 

The blade slows then comes to stop. Jesse looks at the power saw in confusion. He fiddles with it for a few seconds while wondering if one of the breakers had tripped. With that thought in mind, he turns around heading for the electrical panel on the wall and sees Lily standing there. 

Although the glare from the afternoon sun behind her makes it difficult to see the glare on her face, Jesse can feel the hostility in her aura. 

Is it directed at him?

Even knowing that no one else is in the workshop with them, he looks around quickly and comes back to her. 

“Ms. Lily?” he questions uncertainly. 

He removes the ear muffs and adds, “I hadn’t noticed when you came in. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Don’t you ’hey, Ms. Lily', me, you bastard, ingrate,” she fumes.

Jesse’s eyes double in size. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he continues to stare at her in bewilderment and what he'd done to get on Lily's bad side. 

Since she is so famous for her temper, he knows to tread carefully. If he plays into his ignorance of whatever had brought her damned prickles out, it might earn him blunt force trauma to the head when she picks up the first missile that her hands find and aims at him. 

By the stormy look on her face and her wild windswept brown curls, he knows that if he owns up to whatever she thinks he’s done, he’ll likely end up in a casket. That leaves playing it somewhere in the middle and even then he’s not certain to come out unscathed. Her tongue-lashings have been known to cut bigger men down at the knees.

Jesse clears his throat. Before he can open his mouth to say anything that might either appease or rile her further, Clive charges into the workshop looking as if the apocalypse is coming.

He skids to a halt, just shy of running into Lily and mutters, “oh s**t. She’s already here.”

His sudden appearance doesn’t phase Lily out of her murderous intent, if Jesse reads the expression on her face right. She looks as if she’s leading the charge of those four horsemen of the apocalypse that Clive is currently seeking refuge from. She stalks toward him with the cord of the power saw swinging loosely in her hand.

Jesse raises his hands in surrender and takes a cautious step back, his eyes bouncing between Lily and Clive while he waits for one of them to say something. 

Behind her, Clive mouths a few words that he can’t understand. Jesse focuses on his lips and looks at him in exasperation. When Lily whips her head around, Clive immediately switches to his poker face. She growls a warning at him before turning back to Jesse. 

As soon as she does, Clive resorts to hand gestures like this is a game of charades. He rounds his arms over his belly and mouths something repeatedly.

Jesse rolls his eyes. His life is hanging in the balance and his friend is playing games. 

Resigned to figuring Clive’s actions and fed up of the mystery, he demands, “will somebody just tell me what the heck is going on.”

Lily sets both her hands on her hips and lets out a frustrated screech. 

“Boy,” she says, pointing at him. 

Jesse can tell that she is fighting to restrain herself. 

“It is taking everything in me not to kill you right now,” she grits between her clenched teeth. “And the only reason I’m debating whether or not I should is how good your mama has been to me and my little girl. And Tullisa would never forgive me. How could you do it?” she shrieks while stomping one of her feet against the concrete floor. 

Tears pool in her eyes. That’s what truly scares Jesse. 

“Lily,” he starts to say.

“I had plans for my daughter,” she interrupts. “She had plans for herself -- for her life and you’ve swooped in with your blue eyes and thick, chestnut hair and all your sadness drooping your shoulders, taking advantage of her feelings only to snatch her dreams out of her hands, rip them to shreds and throw them to the wind," seethes in one breath. "And all because you got too drunk and couldn’t control your...your...your...” she sputters and points at his crotch.

From fear that he might be mutilated, Jesse jumps back but she doesn’t stop inching toward him.

“Your hose!” she finally finishes.

Jesse c***s his head wearing a look of confusion. 

"I hope it was worth it, Jesse. Because if I have anything to say about it, you are not going to hurt my little girl. The next time that you are need of a receptacle to empty your balls, you aim them away from my daughter or I swear to all things holy, that will be the last time you use them," she growls. "Oh," she adds before he can get a word in. "I hope you also know, that I will get her as far away from you as possible."

That fog clouding Jesse's brain lifts. His eyes snap over to Clive and the look on his friend’s face -- the slight nod he gives -- provides a bit more clarity. 

Still he asks, “what are you talking about?”

“How could you do that to her? That girl has lo...” Lily starts to explain. 

“What are you talking about, Lily?” he repeats, this time with a bit more authority in his voice. “Are you saying that Tullisa...”

She balls her free hand into fists and jabs him in the upper arm with it.

“You. Got. My. Daughter. Pregnant. You. Scoundrel," spits and punctuates each word with as hard a punch as she can manage against his muscled arm. 

Too stunned, Jesse doesn’t try to fend them off. He feels as if the rug had just been yanked from under his feet and he’s falling. Everything is upside down and when he lands, all the air leaves his lungs. 

Once that feeling clears, Jesse’s blood heats to lava. His features contort with his rage. Yet, despite feeling as if his head might explode, he says, "she wouldn't. Tullisa wouldn't keep this from me. She knows...she knows me...she..." he keeps mumbling. 

“Oh, that’s what you’re concerned about?” Lily says. “I think we should talk about how you’re going to treat my daughter, now that you’ve put a baby inside her.”

“Or how’s about I go over to the Vet’s office and ring her little neck,” Jesse growls. “Not another word,” he orders pointing at Lily. 

Her mouth snaps shut.

“You’re going to stay out of this," he commands Lily. "It’s none of your concern.”

Lily balks at him. “The hell it’s not,” she argues.

“Contrary to what you think, Lily,” Jesse spits. “Tullisa is a grown woman. And this is between me and her. You stay out of it,” he warns again.

Not giving her a chance to say anything else, he brushes past her shoulder and stalks toward the door.

“Jesse, calm down,” Clive warns.

Feeling the need to hit something or someone, Jesse curls his fingers into fists. He truly wants to lay one right into Clive’s face to vent his anger. Maybe if it had been Reed standing in front of him, he really would have fired a punch. But it’s Clive -- loyal Clive with a sorry past. So, he walks past his best friend without a word and slams his knuckles into the oak door instead.

It hurts but too livid to care, Jesse ignores the pain shooting up his arm and tramples the earth beneath his feet as he storms towards his truck.

“Jesse Caine, where do you think you’re going? You get back here,” Lily orders. "I'm not done with you."

Without turning around, he tells her, “I’m warning you. Stay out of it, Lily.”

He can hear her fuming and muttering behind him but he doesn’t turn around to tell her what a liar and typical woman her daughter is. 

“What happened to, Ms. Lily, you ingrate,” she shouts after him.

She might be correct about him being an ingrate. After all that Lily has done for him over the years, he really had, in fact, deflowered her daughter in a drunken stupor. That knowledge sobers Jesse just a little bit.

He’s earned Lily’s wrath. Later, he’ll accept whatever she says or does to him. Later he will apologize to her. Right now, he’s just too damned angry to care about any of those things.