Gary straightened his collar and said, “No problem. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”
“Not a big deal.” Mark sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Who was the government guy?” That part totally confused him.
“The second time she came in with film, there was an uptight guy who flashed a badge at me and made me swear not to tell anyone about the photos. That it was a big secret.” Gary ducked his head. “That made it even…odder.”
“Second time?”
“Yeah. The first time, instead of water, it was when you were doing some kind of bondage thing.” Gary’s face turned brick red.
“It wasn’t a bondage thing…I was just…bound. But not for reasons you’re thinking. Anyway, what was Jessie doing with the pictures?”
Gary didn’t look at him, just shrugged and sorted newly processed photos. “You’d have to ask her.”
Mark paused outside O’Leary’s as a wave of nausea hit him. It was just Jessie. He squared his shoulders and entered the dim interior. At least he’d picked a location where he felt comfortable. He and Bud had taken to watching ball games and shooting pool here a couple of times a week. Blinking as his eyes adjusted, it was a moment before he spotted Jessie sitting at a table towards the back. She hadn’t seen him yet, and he took the opportunity to drink in the sight of her.
She wore her hair pulled back and twisted into some kind of clip that allowed a few strands to trail down and brush her shoulders. It was sophisticated, yet soft and inviting. At that moment, she turned and spotted him. Their eyes locked. His heart thundered like the hooves of a racehorse in the homestretch, and he couldn’t move until a waitress crossed between them, breaking the connection.
“Hey.” It was all he could manage as he slipped onto the bench opposite her.
“Hi, Mark.” She handed him a menu. “I waited to order. I didn’t know if you wanted to eat or just have a drink.”
“Are you hungry?” Nerves had stolen his appetite, but he figured he should eat anyway. He studied the menu.
“I don’t know if I’m hungry. I think I’m too keyed up to eat.” She chuckled and he looked up from the menu in surprise.
“What’s got you all nervous?” He could think of lots of possibilities and none were good. Was she going to tell him that she was married? Had a steady boyfriend? Thought he was guilty?
She spun a coaster in circles with her index finger and watched it as though fascinated. “I don’t know.” She shrugged and flashed an embarrassed smile at him. “I guess I don’t know what to say to you.”
Mark understood what she meant, but understanding didn’t make it easier to respond. He crossed his arms on top of the table and leaned forward, and looked at the television screen over the bar. Should he ask her how she’d been the last year and a half?
The silence between them stretched. Finally, afraid she’d leave, he cleared his throat. “Listen, I…I’ve never been good at small talk, and I’m out of practice. What do you say we just order a pizza? We can talk about that.”
Biting her lip, she nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
They decided on sausage and mushrooms and a pitcher of beer. Mark poured for both of them when the beer arrived. “I didn’t know you liked mushrooms.”
She sipped hers, and a tiny bit of foam clung to her upper lip. When her tongue darted out to catch it, he shifted in his seat and tried to keep from staring and hoping for a repeat performance.
“Yeah, I’m not picky. Mushrooms are good. I draw the line at green peppers though.”
Feeling safe with the topic, Mark smiled. “Really? What do you have against peppers?” He took a sip of his beer. He’d never been a big drinker, but he’d missed having one now and again. Mostly, he’d missed the social aspect, being with friends and relaxing.
Jessie made a face and shuddered. “Ugh. I can’t even stand the smell. It makes me want to puke.” She grinned at him. “Consider yourself warned.”
“Noted. I’ll be sure never to eat green peppers before kissing-” He broke off when her eyes widened and met his. Heat flooded his face. “I’m sorry. I guess I was back in the past.” He couldn’t look at her as he lifted his beer and gulped.
She turned in her seat. “I wonder when that pizza will get here? I’m starved.”
“Yeah, me too.”
The TV screen was a blur as he stared at it. He hated this. He hated the awkwardness and the stilted conversation. He hated making her feel uncomfortable. Deciding he’d rather just rip off the bandage rather than tease it off bit by bit, Mark took a deep breath and plunged into the topic that was foremost in his mind. “I completely understand if you’ve moved on in your life, so you can tell me. I just have to know.” He searched her face, unable to read what she was thinking.
She played with an earring, her eyes averted. He took her silence for an affirmative and tried to quell the pain that swept from his chest through his body down to the bones in his hands. He couldn’t blame her.
“I just want you to know that I never had any involvement with terrorists.” Sitting back, he blew out a deep breath. There – it was out. A burden lifted. He rubbed his hands together, studying his fingers because he couldn’t look at her. “All this time, it killed me that you might think that I had something to do with it. I…I just wanted you to know. And for what it’s worth, the government finally figured it out too.”
The waitress arrived bearing the pizza. She chirped on about how hot it was, to be careful, and if there was anything more they needed to let her know. Mark might have thanked her, but he couldn’t have sworn to it. All he wanted to do was escape.
Jessie sat with her hands clasped around her glass, her eyes on the pizza, but she made no move to take a slice. “I never really thought you had anything to do with it, Mark.” She tilted her head, running the fingers of one hand through her hair and gave him a tight smile.
“You…you didn’t?” He wanted to believe her so badly, but he recalled when he’d seen her in the cell. Fear and doubt had been written all over her face. He’d never forget that. “What about in the cell? You said I should tell them what I know even after I said I didn’t know anything.”
She shook her head. “I was confused. What was I supposed to think? You’d been taken away, had already been gone weeks. The newspapers were calling you a terrorist-”
Mark sat back hard. “It was in the papers?” So, everyone in country probably thought he was a terrorist. He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
“Yeah, I guess I did. My dad mentioned something, but I didn’t think much about it at the time.” There had been too many other revelations that night at his parents’ kitchen table.
“I hated myself for believing the papers. Then a CIA agent came and questioned me after you had been gone awhile. I don’t think I gave him the answers that he was looking for, but he made me think. I asked myself how could you possibly be guilty?” Her eyes never left his face and he held her gaze like a falling man clutched a lifeline. She tilted her head and twisted the earring again. “I remembered the pictures you’d shown me from your Afghanistan trip. Nobody who cared that much could hurt someone.”
Mark’s throat convulsed and he swallowed to ease the tightness.
“So, I tried to find out where you were, but I couldn’t. It was like you fell off the face of the earth. Even the newspapers didn’t cover it after awhile. Your release didn’t get even a small mention that I could see.” Her bitter tone at the last bit surprised him.