Chapter Three

I'd kept forgetting on all my dates with Jesse -- yeah, dates; he finally got the hang of it -- that he probably wouldn't care how I looked, I mean, he has seen me with bloody hands, poison oak-y hands, in a one-piece bathing suit, in my pajamas, covered in mud, bloodied, bruised, but when I walked down the stairs to say hello to him, he said, "You look nice tonight, Susannah."

I smiled up at him. He looked nice too--in a pair of faded jeans and a black shirt. "Thanks." I wanted to tip-toe up to kiss him, but Brad was right there in the living room, and I didn't want any rude comments to be made on Brad's behalf. I knew Jesse wouldn't say anything rude. I mean, I couldn't exactly sucker-punch Brad with my mom anywhere nearby, which she was. She is always nearby when she thinks Jesse is anywhere around. She really likes him. I think she's planning our wedding, naming our kids, and designing our house. I swear. He hasn't even uttered the M word. Damn it. I know I told him that I didn't care about marriage or kids, there is something I do care about that I can only get from him if I marry him. I think you know what that is. I mean, I don't want to be rude or anything, but, um, I am a girl. I have hormones. I think you know what I mean.

Not that he would be so bold to ask for my hand in marriage. I mean, he likes Andy and all, but I imagine he'd want to ask Andy for his blessings, and of course, he's probably too shy to ask.

I was glad, however, that my efforts to look my best had paid off. I mean, I always need to look good, but especially for him. I wore my favorite dark-rinse lowrider jeans and my favorite lavender cashmere sweater, the one Mom bought for me for my nineteenth birthday, saying that she thought the lavender would bring out the green in my eyes -- because even though it was May, and really warm outside, movie theaters are really, really, really cold. I know because that's where Jesse likes to spend his time when he isn't in class or studying. I've tried telling him about the miracle of DVD players and Blockbuster, but he says movies are better in theaters.

Whatever. As long as he's spending that time with me and not with Adeline McClellan's ghost - or cadaver --I don't care.

Adeline McClellan. Oh God. How was I going to deal with that situation? It's not like she wanted me to track down her murderer (well, she didn't have one) or steal one of her possessions from one of her benefactors and give it to the person who deserved it more -- all she wanted me to do was tell my boyfriend not to dissect her body. Why was I having such a hard time with that? Oh yeah, that's because telling my boyfriend not to dissect her body was telling him to fail his semester exam, and telling him that all the hard work he'd been doing for the past two years was all for nothing over a dead woman.

I was mulling over all this as Jesse escorted me to his car. Yes, he finally got one. A Honda Civic. He opened the door for me, as was his custom. He asked my why I was so quiet, and if I was thinking about something. I told him I was thinking, but I didn't really know what I was thinking about. He told me that I just seemed like something was bothering me, and that if I wanted to, I could tell him.

"It's nothing, Jesse, really," I said.

"Not nothing. Has he called again?" Jesse said, referring to Paul, who was away at Harvard, studying to be a lawyer. Paul had called me several times over the past two years, suggesting that maybe he and I should go out for coffee some time, even though I keep explaining to him that I am fully taken for once in my life, and I don't want to get coffee with him next time he's in town. Or ever, really, because I don't like coffee. Or Paul. While Paul is my friend, and Jesse's friend as well, ironically, I don't think that Jesse would take it lightly if I wanted to go meet Paul for cappuccinos and a friendly chat. Jesse trusts me and all, but I had a pretty sinking feeling that Jesse and Paul would end up fighting over me the way some four-year-old boys I'd once babysat fought over toys.

"It's mine! My mommy bought it for me!" the first boy had said.

"Yeah, but, can't I just borrow it? Please, can I see it for five minutes?" the second boy had said.

"NO! IT'S MINE, AND YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!" roared the first boy.

"I HATE YOU!" the other boy said. And then the boys had wound up hitting each other until I pulled them apart.

Only with Jesse and Paul, it could get really ugly, and instead of time-out, one of them would wind up hurt or in jail. Or both. That I did not need.

"No, he hasn't called," I told Jesse.

"You know you can tell me," he said as he stopped at a stop sign.

"I know, but I want to think some more first," I said.

The truth was, I had no idea how I was going to tell him. I would wait until the movie was over, when maybe I'd have thought about it enough to ask him what he'd do in a "hypothetical" situation.

Then I'd break the news to him that my hypothetical situation was indeed a real one, and that we needed to talk to Adeline to see if we could change her mind.

Or we could always ask for another body for him to dissect for school. That would solve my problem, but it wouldn't solve Adeline's problem, so I'd have her to deal with.

As a mediator, I've had to make many sacrifices, but this wouldn't be my sacrifice, it'd be Jesse's, and it wasn't fair to him, not after all the work he'd done.