Panic in Aisle Five

Elayna rested her elbow on her leg. The tip of the half-consumed cigarette glowed.

At last, Cherise found her voice. Her hands trembled. "What if you're wrong? I like him a lot but ... I can't afford to risk it. This job is the best one I've had in a long time and I am too close to the edge to look for another one."

"Fair point. Fortunately, I'm not wrong." Elayne glanced at her watch, then stretched toward a receptacle and ground out her cigarette. "I'll make you a deal. If you tell Jordan how you feel, and he fires you over that, I'll quit too."

"What?"

She shrugged.

"You can't do that, Elayne."

"Don't tell me what I can't do. I took this gig mostly as a favor to Meredith, to help Jordan launch his business. I like him, and the job, but it's getting a little harder each month." Elayne chuckled. "The old bones don't move as well as they used to. Anyway, Jordan's done some cross-contracting with other cleaning outfits in the city. I've worked with some of them and made my own contacts. I'm sure I can get on with one. Worst comes to worst, I'll get you a job too."

Cherise's head swam and her hands shook. What do I do?

Elayne stood. "Well, either you need to get up and go talk to Jordan or you need to go get in the van so we can get to work. I know which one I'd choose if I were you but--" She wrinkled her nose. "--young people aren't always that bright. Hmm. Old people either." She flicked the stub in the receptacle and walked inside.

She sat for a moment, staring over the parking lot and the longer she did, the greater a sense of fatalism overtook her. Cherise bit her lip, stood, and followed Elayne inside.

Meredith locked eyes with her as she entered. "Did Elayne talk some sense into you?"

"No, she convinced me to do something stupid."

"Even if it's stupid, you better do it right, because I don't want my friend to quit." She ignored Cherise's open-mouthed shock and turned back to Jaylen, who laughed and stretched out his arms to be picked up.

Is everyone laughing at me now? Cherise took a deep breath and knocked on the frame of Jordan's office.

He glanced up from his paperwork. Cherise thought she saw his eyes light up, and then just as quickly told herself that she was only seeing what she wanted to see--and she desperately did want to see it. She cleared her throat. "Can we talk for a sec?"

"Sure, come in."

Cherise entered and closed the door behind her. She faced Jordan. "Uhm, I wanted to ask you, uhm ..."

His eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could make you dinner one night--as thanks, I mean, for all that you've done for me ... if that's okay. I mean, you can bring your Mom and Jaylen, if you want."

Jordan smiled. "That'd be nice--and no, I'd like it to be just us, if you're comfortable with that."

"Yes, that's fine. Uhm, is Friday night okay, at seven? Lasagna?"

"Sure, lasagna sounds great. Can I bring a bottle of wine?"

"Yes." Relief flooded her. Cherise gave him a quick smile, then all but bolted before her nerves failed.

#

When Cherise thought about slow work weeks from her past, she realized nothing before compared to the week of waiting for that Friday to arrive.

On the surface, nothing changed. Jordan continued to be his normal, pleasant, business-like self, as did Meredith and Elayne ... though Cherise could not help but think that Jordan's eyes lingered on her at times, and those of the ladies seemed smugly satisfied.

Cherise didn't care. All she wanted was to make the most of her chance.

She wasn't sure if it was coincidence or planning on Jordan's part that had her team finish early that Friday but they finished their job around three which--as always--meant they were able to depart early for the day. Cherise hurried home, assembled the lasagna, and ran through the shower as fast as her bum leg allowed. As she exited, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, tracing her eyes over her reflection.

All things considered, still in pretty good shape. Her eyes drifted lower, to the plastic mold cupped around the stub of her leg. She sighed. Except that.

In a ritual as old as time, Cherise stood in front of her closet, fretting over what she should wear. Did she want to appear eager? Playful? Downplay her appeal?

God, I am really overthinking this. Just slap something on. She grabbed a teal blouse that just showed slight cleavage and a pair of khaki pants that were comfortable while still offering just a hint of the curve of her hips. She decided to leave her hair as it was, which was to allow her springy curls to surround her head like a halo. She dressed and returned to the kitchen and soon, her small apartment filled with the aromas of a full meal.

Cherise smiled at the thought. If she was stood up, at least she wouldn't have to cook for a few days.

But thoughts of that perished when, at seven o'clock sharp, there was a sharp rap on the door. Cherise wiped her hands, smoothed her blouse, and answered the door.

Jordan stood there, wearing a long-sleeved button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled up, and slacks. He clutched a small bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. On seeing Cherise, a broad grin sprang to his face. "Good evening. Wow."

"Wow, what?"

"You look fantastic."

"You clean up pretty well yourself. Are those for me?"

Jordan blinked, then offered her the flowers and bottle. "Oh, yeah."

"Thank you. Come on in."

Cherise tensed when Jordan entered the tiny apartment. She suddenly wondered if he would judge her for living in such a spartan state. But he didn't say a word other than, "Can I help with anything?"

"No, it'll be ready soon. Would you like a glass of this wine?" She looked at the label. "Do you think this goes well with lasagna?"

"Barbera wines seem to."

"Are you a wine connoisseur?"

"No, but I know how to Google stuff."

Cherise couldn't help herself; a full-bellied laugh erupted from her throat.

They made small talk while Cherise finished preparing dinner. When she was done, Jordan insisted on helping her plate it up and placing things on the table. Cherise couldn't help but evaluate his table manners and was pleased to see they were impeccable. She laughed at his jokes and touched his arm a few times. When they finished, Jordan leaned back in his chair and patted his belly. "Now that was a good meal."

Cherise stole peeks at the muscles of his arms pressing against the fabric. "As good as Meredith's?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not you're going to rat me out when you see her Monday."

Cherise giggled, covering her mouth. On one hand, she hated that she was acting like a giddy teenager. On the other, she felt more alive than she had in many years. On her suggestion, they moved to her couch. As they sat, she said, "So I guess Jaylen is with your mom tonight?"

"Yeah, she's been such a great help since ..." He trailed off.

Cherise bit her lip. "Have you heard from his mother?"

"Just through the lawyers. She wants to see Jaylen but since she had bail denied, she's still locked up and now I have primary custody. And I have you to thank for that."

She shifted her weight. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with a mother being cut off from her child."

"Considering the hell Latanya put me through during our divorce, I'd feel justified in doing just that. But my primary concern is my son's well-being. After the absolute callous disregard she showed him at the grocery store, I'm not convinced she wasn't neglecting Jaylen in other ways, and the court agreed. CPS said she could only have supervised visits, and only once her possession and assault times are served."

Though she still felt a twinge of guilt, Cherise only nodded.

Jordan faced her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay?"

"Why wouldn't you let me help you--with your leg, I mean?" When Cherise hesitated, he added, "Really, Cherise, I only wanted to help. I wasn't trying to push."

"I know." A tear came to her eye and she wiped it away.

Can I tell him? I have to. He's been so kind. He deserves the truth.

Cherise took a deep breath, drained her glass, and set it on the battered coffee table. "Jordan, I have to tell you something. I ... I can't ask you not to be upset. You may want to leave after this. You may even want to fire me. If you do, I'll understand."

"I won't--"

She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "Don't say that yet. Just listen, okay?"

He nodded.

Cherise lowered her hand. "I told you that I was born and raised in Green Bay, right? My folks and brothers were great. I pretty much had a fantastic childhood, with opportunities a lot of kids would love to have." She sighed. "So of course, I tried to piss it away."

Jordan took her hand and squeezed it. His grip was firm and reassuring.

"I was a wild teenager, constantly skipping school and getting into trouble. At first, it was just minor stuff like trespassing. We'd sneak into construction sites and drink wine and beer we lifted from our parents ... maybe steal a couple of boards and cinder blocks so the guys could build bike and skateboard ramps. If my mom and dad had caught me, I'd have been in trouble, but they never did. By the time I was fourteen, I graduated to shoplifting and graffiti.

"One night, we got busted in the middle of tagging an office building. We all scattered in different directions. I thought I'd gotten lucky but the cops nabbed one of my friends, and he ratted out the entire group. We all got charged with vandalism. Some of my friends ended up with a misdemeanor charge but I got very lucky--or unlucky, depending on your point of view. They let me go with no charges. I was released to my parents' care ... where I was pretty much grounded for life.

"My life was hell for about a year, since they kept a real tight rein on me. I had a lot of chores and basically no freedom. For a lot of kids, that would have scared them straight. It just made me resentful." Cherise smiled faintly. "It might surprise you to know I can be pretty hard-headed."

Jordan chuckled. "Never crossed my mind."

"Yeah, right. Anyway, Mom and Dad loosened their hold by the time I turned sixteen. I played the good daughter for a while. I stopped skipping class and kept my grades up. It was a great cover. Underneath, I plotted my way out."

She sighed again. "His name was Darius. I met him at a school football game my senior year and it was love at first sight. He said he was twenty-four but I have no idea really. He was a hustler and a scammer and a drug dealer, which was like a porch light to the bad-child moth that I was. At the time, I bought all of his bullshit. I thought he loved me." Cherise lowered her eyes. "All he saw was an easy target."

A sympathetic look crossed his face and he squeezed her hand again.

"By the time I turned eighteen, I was completely under his spell. My folks wanted me to stop seeing him but you know how that goes. I had a fight with them, moved out of the house, and moved right into his dump. We were drinking, partying, doing drugs. Within two months of living with him, I turned up pregnant. I thought things were going great.

"Don't get me wrong. I knew what kind of guy Darius was. He kept guns and drugs around the apartment and made no secret of threatening or kicking the crap out of his customers that owed him money. He took a crowbar to one guy right in front of me. I'm pretty sure he was screwing other girls behind my back, though he always denied it. I was so blinded by love I made excuses. That was one of the worst parts, you know? Did ... did Latanya cheat on you?

Jordan shook his head. "Not that I ever knew. She just drank and smoked too much pot, refused to get a job, and wasted our money. No matter how much I made, she spent it just as fast. I also thought she was neglecting Jaylen and we fought all the time. Then she got hooked on coke and that was the breaking point. It was hard but that's life, right?"

"Yeah. When things were good with Darius, things were good. I tormented myself when I thought he was out with other women. It made me wonder why I wasn't enough and blamed myself for whatever I did to drive him to someone else. Screwed-up thinking, I know. The one time I confronted him about it, he smacked me and told me to shut up. I figured I'd deserved it."

Jordan scowled but said nothing.

"Anyway, this all went on for a few months before that night. We'd pulled over at a convenience store. Darius told me to stay in the car until he came back and I did. Like I said, he'd popped me in the lips a few times when I disobeyed him. You would think that I would have known better, seeing how I grew up with my father and brothers, none of whom had or ever would lay a hand on my mother or their girlfriends. Again, though I just made excuses, that Darius wouldn't have hit me if I hadn't pissed him off. So like he told me to, I waited."

Cherise shrugged. "I'd heard the sound of gunfire before--I mean, with pop culture, what American kid hasn't? Still, I was surprised at how high-pitched it was; more of a pop pop than a deep bang bang. I froze, not knowing what to do. Darius stumbled out of the store, clutching his stomach. I didn't know he'd been shot until he got in the car and then I smelled it. Blood has a unique scent, like burning copper. I started to ask him what happened but yelled for me to shut the fuck up and started driving with one hand. He kept the other on his stomach. Every time he moved, more blood dribbled between his fingers."

She glanced at Jordan. He nodded at her to continue.

"We didn't make it three blocks. Darius had been accelerating the whole time, swerving all over the road. I finally screamed for him to stop and he reached toward me with one bloody hand. I think he was going to hit me again but he was so far gone all he could manage was to extend his arm. Anyway, he took his eyes off the road and we veered right into a parked car at about forty miles per hour."

She caught Jordan's eyes flick to her leg and nodded. "Yeah. The wreck was bad. Darius wasn't wearing a belt and he was pretty much pulped. I was fastened in, but my legs were crushed. They saved the left one. The other? Gone, and that wasn't all. I lost the baby I was carrying."

Cherise lowered her eyes again, fighting back her tears. "I found out later that Darius had gone into the convenience store and stuck a gun in the clerk's face. When some other customer screamed and Darius looked away, the clerk pulled his own pistol and got Darius in the stomach twice. Darius fired back and winged the man in the arm but I guess he lived. He ran out, got in the car, and then we crashed.

"At first, the DA wanted to prosecute me as an accomplice--aiding and abetting by driving the getaway car, they said, even though I wasn't driving. They eventually dropped that, though. My second real brush with the law, and again, I got very lucky. I figure my next time will be a 'three strikes and you're out' situation. I've tried to play it straight since then."

"I don't blame you." Jordan raised his eyebrows. "How did your folks take all that?"

"About as well as you'd expect. Even though I'd been acting like an idiot, when I came crawling back, they took me in. They never even said, 'I told you so,' which I sure would have deserved. They paid for my prosthetic and helped me until I got used to it."

"But the guilt was chewing me into pieces. I stayed with them until I couldn't take it anymore, then moved down here, with everything I owned packed in a backpack and a small suitcase. I left them a note and told them I was sorry. They were upset with me."

"My mom would have skinned me alive if I had done that." Jordan cocked his head. "Do you still talk to them?"

"Every weekend, and I drive up every other month or so but it's always uncomfortable. Sometimes Mom cries and begs me to move home, so they can help me. Dad doesn't say as much, which is different from before. The way he looks at me is different too, like the way someone would look at a family dog they'd had for years that one day bit them for no reason. I used to be his precious little girl and I wonder if I've broken that forever."

Cherise fell silent and waited. She figured she had a fifty-fifty chance of Jordan walking out the door. The other option was him walking out and then firing her.

Jordan waited for a moment. When she didn't say anything further, he said, "That's some tale."

"I know."

He gazed at her for a moment, then laughed.

Cherise flushed. "What's so funny?"

"You should see the look on your face. Now that you've told me this, did you expect me to tell you how disgusted I am by you, and get up and leave?"

"Honestly? Yes. It wouldn't have been the first time."

Jordan reclined against the couch back. "Did I ever tell you why I married Latanya?"

She shook her head.

"It was because she was hot and had big tits. Yeah, go ahead and curl your lip. I don't blame you. I was young and stupid, and thought with my other head, so of course I made a lot of mistakes. That's really all I heard you tell me."

He took her hands. Cherise let him, savoring the warmth of his skin on hers.

"Both of us have made some pretty serious mistakes, and we've both paid the price--and will go on paying the price. We have to live with the consequences of our actions, right? There's no getting around that. But I think life is what we make of it, mistakes and all. We have to look forward, not back. You're not that person anymore, Cherise. Neither am I."

"Are you sure about that?"

Jordan leaned toward her and tilted his head.

Cherise closed her eyes as their lips met. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed as his mouth massaged hers. His kiss was strong and confident. She pushed her tongue against his, delighting and shivering at the delicious sensation.

Jordan's powerful hands slid up her arms. The friction brought goosebumps to her skin. He rested his hands on her shoulders, holding her against him. Cherise knew that if she pulled away, he would let her.

But separating herself from him was the last thought on her mind.

Jordan pulled his head away. "Does that tell you how sure I am?"

She gazed at him. "Not quite."

"What can I do to convince you?"

"Kiss me again."

Their lips met a second time. Cherise let her hands rove across his strong arms and shoulders, then laced behind his neck. She slithered into Jordan's lap, straddling him, and placing her knees outside his hips. She ground her groin against his; his rock-hard erection throbbed against her pussy and Cherise started to shake--though whether from anticipation or trepidation, she herself couldn't even tell.

Jordan's hands found her breasts and gave a light squeeze. Cherise moaned into his mouth. She broke contact and whispered, "No. Not here."

She slid off him, stood, and offered her hand. Jordan took it. She pulled him to his feet and led him to her bed. When they reached it, she faced him. "Jordan, I ... I don't know what to do with--"

"Shh." He placed a finger to her lips. "I don't care about that."

"I hope that's true."

They kissed again and Cherise felt herself melting against Jordan, letting herself drown in a storm of desire, with him as a great rock to which she could cling. The thought made her smile. What a clumsy metaphor. All right, girl, stop thinking so hard. Just roll with it.

Cherise slowly unbuttoned Jordan's shirt as they kissed. She pulled the shirt tails free of his belt and shoved it down his arms. He mirrored the action. Cherise shivered as the cool apartment air poured over her skin. Jordan's finger fumbled at her bra strap and she wondered if he was nervous or if had been a while. Without breaking their kiss, she reached behind and unhooked the troublesome article. It tumbled free. She kicked her shoes off.