CHAPTER 4
Jess stared at the shoes in her closet. Lanterns was close enough that she didn’t need to drive but far enough away that wearing the shoes she wanted to would be torture.
It hit her then that just a couple of years ago she wouldn’t have been having this dilemma. Walking the few blocks, it would take to get to Lanterns would’ve been out of the question. Even if she’d felt up to it, she wouldn’t have wanted to drag her oxygen tank along with her. She took a deep breath, appreciating the fact that she was able to. Most of her life that hadn’t been the case.
She grabbed her red strappy heels. She lowered to the edge of her bed and reminded herself of the promise she’d made to herself after she’d gotten the heart transplant. She was never going to take her life for granted.
Time was not something that was guaranteed. It was a lesson she’d learned early in life. Doctors hadn’t given her a long life expectancy, and there’d been several times when she hadn’t been expected to make it out of the hospital.
Then, a miracle happened. It was a Thursday. She’d been lying in her hospital bed watching General Hospital, of all things, when her doctor came in wearing a smile she’d never seen him wear before.
He’d told her that they had a donor and they needed to prep her for surgery. After that, everything had happened so fast. It was like her entire life had moved in excruciatingly slow motion and then it sped up to hyper-speed. In the blink of an eye, one woman had lost her life, and Jess had gained hers.
As a young child, Jess had faced her own mortality and made peace with death. Now, as an adult, she was facing actually living, and she had to make peace with life.
She wrapped the skinny strap around her slender ankle and told herself that life was precious. It was fragile, and she planned on making the most out of it. Heels and all.
When she stood, she walked over to the full-length mirror in the corner. Her hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail with a white and black polka-dot scarf wrapped around it. She had a sleeveless white turtleneck tank that had a keyhole back and boyfriend jeans that were rolled up exposing her ankle and lower calf. A bright red lip and her signature thick black cat-eye liner finished off the look.
Fashion had always been a big part of her life. It was a way of expressing herself when she’d felt like her only identity was her illness. She’d adapted a rockabilly pinup style around the age of fourteen after seeing a documentary on vintage pinup girls while she was lying in a hospital bed. It had been transformational. It inspired her and gave her a purpose.
She enrolled in cosmetology school right after she graduated high school and even though it had taken her three times as long as it did other students to graduate because of her condition, she’d done it. Up until she had her surgery she worked part-time at The Mane Attraction. Then a few months after her transplant, the previous owner retired, and she and Amelia took over.
Her phone buzzed with the alarm alerting her that it was time for her to leave. She was trying to get better at being on time for things.
When she’d told her therapist, which she’d been forced to see after her transplant, about her perpetual tardiness he’d explained that a lot of times kids that are sick have a difficult time keeping their minds task-oriented. He said that it stems from managing pain and difficult procedures by distracting themselves or going to ‘happy places’ while their brains are still developing.
He said that once your brain is hardwired to drift, it’s difficult, but not impossible to rewire it to focus. Alarms helped keep her from drifting.
She kissed Marilyn Purrroe on the head and firmly instructed, “Be good. Do not mess with your brother.”
Marilyn rolled to her back, exposing her belly.
“Sorry toots, no time for belly rubs.”
Jess locked up and began the trek to Lanterns. As a kid, she hadn’t appreciated growing up in Whisper Lake. She’d loved the small town during tourist seasons when the population exploded, but the rest of the time it was boring.
Now, she appreciated the beauty and its simplicity. She watched as the sun set behind Stone Castle. The estate was widely speculated to be haunted and the spooky ghost stories and urban legends had scared most of the kids in town at one point or another. But for her, the stories were surprisingly comforting. To believe in them was to believe that there was life after death.
The castle overlooked the lake that was the centerpiece of the town. Lake Shore Drive ran around the large body of water and was lined with shops and restaurants, including her salon.
She was enjoying the walk to Lanterns until about the halfway mark when she really started to regret her choice of footwear. As she glanced down at the offending shoes, she caught her reflection in a window and her ass looked amazing.
It’s worth it, she decided.
But the wave of appreciation for her va-va-voom backside was gone by the time she made it to the parking lot of the bar. She had seriously considered going barefoot the rest of the way until she saw a vehicle that had her patting herself on the back for her resolve.
Only one person in town had a four-door truck with a custom, midnight-blue paint job. Ethan Steele.
If there was anyone worth getting blisters for, it was him.
He wanted to run past her house shirtless, the least she could do was return the favor by wearing these f-me heels that did wonders to her derriere. She stood a little bit taller, and the fiery burn that threatened to overtake her just moments ago dissipated. The healing properties of revenge were revolutionary.
She reached to pull the door open when Marty Rollins came barreling out of it, stopping up short when he came face to face with her. He was a few years older than Jess and was the poster child of peaking in high school. Marty had been the quarterback of the football team and Mr. Popular. But he lost his college scholarship when he failed a drug test his junior year of college. He’d come back to Whisper Lake, tail between his legs, and had been working in his dad’s welding shop ever since.
He was currently on his third marriage, balding, and carried an extra fifty pounds on him. And the way he was looking Jess up and down like she was a piece of steak made her think it wouldn’t be long before he was looking for wife number four.
He held the door open for her, and when she walked by, he let out a low whistle. “Damn, Jess. You are looking good.” His breath reeked of alcohol.