Bridging the Gap
Michelle
The crisp Spring air had rushed up in a breeze in the early afternoon. Jesse sat at the cool diner bar, munching away on a hamburger and seasoned french-fries. The diner walls were lined with black and white checked border, and matching tiles littered the floor. The vinyl seats of the booths and bar stools were bright red, and the table tops a dark gray. The man in charge was portly and balding and quite one up for conversation. The sound of a little tinkering bell rang and banged against the glass of the entrance door. The cook glanced up from the register and smiled and bellowed, “Well, if it ain’t Miss Foster-Jackson!”
Jesse Tuck glanced up at the familiar name, eyeing the girl as she approached the counter. He couldn’t help but notice how blue her eyes were and how wide her smile was. There was no doubt she was a Foster, but then most of the town was with the wedding. He turned back to his plate as she slumped down on to a stool two seats away, looking rather tired and in need of a hearty meal.
“Hey Walter. This wedding is giving me a headache, so if you wouldn’t mind.” She held her index finger and thumb just so apart.
The man smiled again, “Of course, those Foster weddings are always spectacular. I’m sure you’ve got a handle on everythin’ though.”
She laughed, “Yeah. I’m starting to think it was never a good idea to let the girl date. At this rate she’ll dry out her trust fund before she’s twenty-five,” She sighed, “I’ll just have the usual: well done, no onions, please.”
Walter nodded bustled back into the kitchen, leaving Jesse sitting alone with Michelle Foster-Jackson. His eyes were itching to look at her, but he already knew she was staring at him. He chewed along on his meal, trying his hardest not to notice the feeling of his head exploding from her intense look. The feeling grew to a tight knot in the back of his throat and he finally glanced to his left where she sat. He stopped chewing, with a bulge of meat and bread in his cheek. Walter started singing an out of key country-western song.
“You look familiar.” She spoke. Her voice sounded like dry leaves.
Jesse gulped, and snorted a laugh, “A lot of people tell me that.”
“Are you here for the wedding?” She turned her body so she was facing him completely.
“Uh... no. Just visiting an old friend.” He wiped a blot of mustard from his bottom lip.
“Winnie Foster?”
Jesse jumped in his seat when a humming Walter burst from the kitchen with a plate of food in hand. Jesse stood and pulled his wallet from his back pocket and placed a few bills on the counter. He quickly went to leave, only to be caught just above his leatherbound elbow.
“You should come by and see her. She’s been waiting a long time, you know.”
She let go and Jesse fled the diner. She watched him ride off on his red plated motorcycle. He would show at some point; he knew she knew about him and Winnie. He wouldn’t run. Not the Jesse Tuck she knew. Not many knew about the Victorian Tree Gap incident, or about the Tuck family at all, or just how they were related to the Foster clan, or just how important they were to her own existence.
Walter took up the wrinkled bills and stacked them, “He’s new around here. Quite an interesting little guy; says he ain’t familiar with the place. Says he ain’t one to stick around places for long. Calls himself Tuck. You’re granny didn’t happen to know that name did she?”
Michelle looked from the graying sky to the shining man before her, “Not a peep.”
Jesse Tuck glanced up at the familiar name, eyeing the girl as she approached the counter. He couldn’t help but notice how blue her eyes were and how wide her smile was. There was no doubt she was a Foster, but then most of the town was with the wedding. He turned back to his plate as she slumped down on to a stool two seats away, looking rather tired and in need of a hearty meal.
“Hey Walter. This wedding is giving me a headache, so if you wouldn’t mind.” She held her index finger and thumb just so apart.
The man smiled again, “Of course, those Foster weddings are always spectacular. I’m sure you’ve got a handle on everythin’ though.”
She laughed, “Yeah. I’m starting to think it was never a good idea to let the girl date. At this rate she’ll dry out her trust fund before she’s twenty-five,” She sighed, “I’ll just have the usual: well done, no onions, please.”
Walter nodded bustled back into the kitchen, leaving Jesse sitting alone with Michelle Foster-Jackson. His eyes were itching to look at her, but he already knew she was staring at him. He chewed along on his meal, trying his hardest not to notice the feeling of his head exploding from her intense look. The feeling grew to a tight knot in the back of his throat and he finally glanced to his left where she sat. He stopped chewing, with a bulge of meat and bread in his cheek. Walter started singing an out of key country-western song.
“You look familiar.” She spoke. Her voice sounded like dry leaves.
Jesse gulped, and snorted a laugh, “A lot of people tell me that.”
“Are you here for the wedding?” She turned her body so she was facing him completely.
“Uh... no. Just visiting an old friend.” He wiped a blot of mustard from his bottom lip.
“Winnie Foster?”
Jesse jumped in his seat when a humming Walter burst from the kitchen with a plate of food in hand. Jesse stood and pulled his wallet from his back pocket and placed a few bills on the counter. He quickly went to leave, only to be caught just above his leatherbound elbow.
“You should come by and see her. She’s been waiting a long time, you know.”
She let go and Jesse fled the diner. She watched him ride off on his red plated motorcycle. He would show at some point; he knew she knew about him and Winnie. He wouldn’t run. Not the Jesse Tuck she knew. Not many knew about the Victorian Tree Gap incident, or about the Tuck family at all, or just how they were related to the Foster clan, or just how important they were to her own existence.
Walter took up the wrinkled bills and stacked them, “He’s new around here. Quite an interesting little guy; says he ain’t familiar with the place. Says he ain’t one to stick around places for long. Calls himself Tuck. You’re granny didn’t happen to know that name did she?”
Michelle looked from the graying sky to the shining man before her, “Not a peep.”