The Trouble With Apples and Trees

Reality or Fantasy

Year after year, the town council facilitates these elaborate productions. But, out of all of the shows and other festivities hosted here at town hall, this particular one has always seemed the silliest and most pointless to Jesse -- and more so now than ever.

Those sentiments that he has concerning the Ms. Homemaker pageant began long before he’d gotten married to one of the show's more avid supporters. That hadn’t stopped him from sitting front and center to cheer Natanya on during the years that she had participated. Even after that, after they’d recited their vows and worn each other’s rings, disqualifying her from participating in future contests, he’d continued to attend because she’d basically demanded it of him.

“I’m a judge, Jesse,” she would say in that condescending tone of voice that he'd never heard while they'd been dating. “People will expect my husband to be there with me.” 

In his opinion, The Ms. Homemaker Pageant is only a good form of entertainment if an attendee’s purpose for being there is having a good ol' laugh at the expense of the participants. He’s almost certain that the majority of people in attendance tonight are here for this precise purpose. The problem is that, no one would dare snub Liza-Beth by telling her that it’s time to lay her beloved show to rest.

Jesse could raise the matter when residents converge again for the next quarterly town hall meeting. He’s fairly certain that he could garner the support if it all came down to a vote. Clive, Lily, Tullisa, maybe even Cyrus and others would stand with him. Honestly, he’s just not willing to expend that much energy on something so trivial.

Back in the day, he’d often thought of sharing his opinions about closing the curtain on the show for good with his wife. Hers is one vote that he knows he would never have even if it’s a fact that the show generates far less revenue than they spend on hosting it.

Towards the end, once he’d recognized that their marriage had reached the denouement, it had crossed his mind -- along with a list of other things -- to tell her so vindictively. He can just imagine the hissy fit Natanya would have had.

Get rid of a town tradition? God forbid!

Unexpectedly, the images of his wife turning red in the face with steam whistling out of her ears while balling her hands into fists, and stomping her feet like a petulant tot make him chuckle.

“Are you alright, man?”

The sound of Clive’s voice close behind him brings Jesse back to the present -- more specifically to Tullisa sitting in the third row from the back. He’s hardly paid any mind to what is happening on the stage and the event is close to wrapping up. His concentration has mostly been soaked up by the back of her head. 

"Never better," he drawls but hardly means it. 

“You know what you have to do?”

Jesse forces his gaze away from Reed’s arm slung over the back of her seat to look at his best friend. He's not certain about this plan B. Plan A had been an obvious bust but at least it had ended better than he thought it would. There had been no acts of violence. Even if he is no closer to learning whether Tullisa had indeed been the woman in his bed, that alone is a plus.

Jesse startles at the look Clive gives him. His friend's expression says it all. He'd been caught shooting laser beams into Reed with his eyes for the proprietary way he's seating beside Tullisa.

“Anyone catches your fancy this year?” he asks to distract Clive. 

He gets a snort as a response.

“I don’t mean to be callous, Jesse. But your life is a cautionary tale,” he replies. "Besides, I'm a love 'em and leave 'em kinda guy and by love 'em, I mean in the sack only. The leave 'em speaks for itself."

Jesse chuckles again. Thank God for Clive. His friend has a way of making laugh even in the worst of circumstances. Sometimes, he thinks that he wouldn't have made it through the calamity his life had become without him. And sometimes, he wishes that he could adopt Clive's casual attitude when it comes to women and s*x. If he could, then this with whomever he'd slept with last night wouldn't be bothering him at all. 

“The show’s almost over,” Clive reminds him. “Are you ready?”

Jesse wants to say no. All evening, he'd been trying to push his reason for being here to the back of his mind. Had it not been for Clive really buckling down on him to put an end to this mystery, he would have gone home right after Plan A had been executed and subsequently failed to yield any results. 

There are probably several reasons why he should leave it be. Namely, Tullisa seems content to leave well enough alone. All night long, even if she jolly well knows that he's here, she hasn't paid him any mind. 

He’d considered that maybe the two of them could continue to co-exist without addressing this elephant in the room. They can simply go on getting along but around it. Her indifference has told him differently, however. More importantly, it really irks him that she can so easily cast him aside. These days, he tries not to put much stock in his feelings since they've betrayed him before. So that irritation he feels, he bottles it up in that place where he keeps every other emotion that can lead to more catastrophe. 

As time marches on, he's grown more and more confident in the notion that Tullisa is, in fact, the woman he'd slept with. Throughout the day, as his cognitive function slowly trickled back in, little bits and pieces about last night filtered into his mind on those cerebral waves -- a giggle that sounded like hers, a touch he associates with her small fingers, a smell that reminds him of the fragrance she wears.

What troubles him -- probably more than it should -- is his trouble remembering what it had felt like.

Had he kissed her? Had he taken the time to give her pleasure? Or is it really like Clive said? Had he merely gone for gold and not bothered to bring her along with him. Had it been such a terrible experience for her that she would prefer to act the way that she is acting now? Like he is no longer a part of her life?

Jesse sighs. He really shouldn't be thinking about these things. Nor the memory of all those years ago when she’d asked him to teach her how it’s done. Yet, suddenly that conversation rears up and assails him. God help him but that afternoon, he’d wanted to. She’d been fifteen for Christ sake and he'd wanted to haul her out of sight so nobody would see them while he showed her what it meant to be kissed by a man.

Other than today, he hadn’t thought of that event in years. The memory is there now urging him to walk down the isle and yank her away from Reed to lay one on her right in the middle of the room.

The desire to possess the girl he'd watched grow up is so potent, it frightens Jesse. Out of all the women whom he knows, if Tullisa is the one he’s suddenly lusting over, then Clive and his other friends are right. He’s been Celibate for too long and it’s made him lose his damn mind.

Jesse runs a hand over his haggard features. 

Yup, he's officially lost it. 

He credits his wayward imagination to the residual effects of drinking too much and losing a few brain cells because of it.

“I'm ready," Jesse states. 

He's really not. He's nervous as hell but figures that the only way exorcise those feelings out of him, is deal with the matter at the source. 

"It should be easy," Clive says. 

The pensive scowl lining his forehead makes Jesse doubt his view point. 

"I mean, I'm almost fifty percent sure that your mystery hump is her," he continues. 

"Don't say it like that," Jesse scolds. "Come on, Clive. It's Tullisa."

"Fine, you're right," he concedes. "I'm just nervous. I'm sweating. Remember what we discussed?"

Jesse rolls his eyes. "Yes, Clive," he deadpans. "I remember."

"Good. That's good," Clive tells him. 

He rubs his palms together and then proceed to massage Jesse's shoulders as if he's about to enter a ring on fight night.

"Would you stop it," Jesse scolds while shrugging off Clive's hold. He shifts away from Clive and says, "you're making me more nervous."

"Sorry," Clive offers. "So, when you approach her tonight, just look for the signs. If she's all huffy and angry then it was definitely her and you probably didn't get her off."

"You don't need to say it again," Jesse mutters. 

"I just want you to make sure you've got all your ducks in a row," Clive informs him. "If she's all giggly and un-tullisa-like, and she's blushing and reaching out to touch you and all that stuff, then you know it was definitely her and she's looking for round two which means it probably wasn't all that bad."

"Right," Jesse says with a firm nod. 

"If she's just being her normal self then most likely it wasn't her because girls like Tullisa, they're just not the love 'em and leave 'em type," Clive continues to explain. "And that means, you're in the clear."

"Clive, if this does work, you need some serious help," Jesse cautions him. 

The announcement of the winner and sparse round of applause indicate the end of the show. Immediately, people begin filing out of their seats, giving Jesse no more time to steel his nerves. 

Intent on accosting Tullisa on her way out, both he and Clive slip to the side of the entrance hidden by shadows to wait for her to make her exit. 

Clive plays the look-out, occasionally peeking inside to mark her approach.

"Here she comes," he whispers. 

Jesse's heart picks up a staccato rhythm against his ribs and his hands begin to sweat.

"Hey, Pet," he says when she appears through the door. 

The fact that he reaches out to take her hand shocks him. Jesse lets go quickly and stuffs them in his pocket before he does something like stroke her cheek or pull her to his chest or something even more frightening.

"Oh, hey, Jesse," she responds with her usual smile and steps to the side to allow others to pass.

That throws Jesse for a loop. He wasn't sure which of the scenarios Clive had described that he'd been expecting or hoping for from her, but the latter wasn't it. He looks at Tullisa like she'd just sprouted another head and tries to demand something other than this stupefied reaction from his brain. It's not until Clive elbows him in the ribs that recovers. 

Before he can speak again, Jesse has to clear the dryness from his throat.

"I was wondering if we could talk," he explains. 

"Sure, what about?" Tullisa asks. 

He can feel her light brown eyes on his face the weight of it putting him off even further. 

"Somewhere private?" he suggests.

"I'm on a date, Jesse," she tells him. 

Jesse can't help looking over at Reed, hovering behind her. To the man's credit, he doesn't try to play the caveman by putting a possessive hand on Tullisa or something else that would set Jesse's teeth on edge. He just stands there barely acknowledging either he or Clive. 

Feeling a little stupid that he actually thought she'd be okay with him interrupting her evening, Jesse scratches the back of his head. 

"I'm aware," he mumbles. 

"Can't it wait till morning?" she asks. "We're going to take a walk."

"No, it can't wait till morning," Clive steps forward to hiss at her. 

A few awkward seconds elapse before she finally says, "Reed, do you mind giving us a moment?"

Pointing off to the side, he answers, "I'll be right over there," and touches his hand to the small of her back. 

Jesse barely covers his reaction to the very intimate gesture.

When he begins to stroll in the opposite direction that Reed waslk in, Clive adopts their slow pace beside them. 

"Hey, buddy," Jesse says to him. "Thanks for your help but, I've got it from here."

"Are you sure?" Clive whispers. "You look like you're about to faint."

Tullisa giggles at the comment. Jesse's breath stills in his lungs. He narrows his eyes down at her. That sound in his ear last night had given him shivers. Unless he'd been fantasizing about her while he'd been with another woman. 

Either way, this doesn't bode well for him.