ZAC
(PART TWO)
When Bessie walked down the stairs, Zac nearly forgot that he was in the judge's company. This was a moment he'd dreamed of--a moment he should have had on the night of the town social when she'd worn that beautiful peach dress.
Of course, she looked every bit as breathtaking as she always did. But now that Zac felt like he was actually allowed to appreciate her, her beauty only grew as the wall around his heart continued to disintegrate. Her dress was a lovely pastel green--he loved her in pastels--that made sure to bring out the color in her hazel eyes. The sleeves were short, the collar turned down, and the A-line length fell just below her knees. On her feet, she'd buckled on a pair of small, black heels and she carried a small, beaded purse with a thin strap on her shoulder.
She'd been preoccupied with her purse and didn't notice Zac until she'd reached the bottom and looked up, her eyes widening in complete bewilderment. "Zac," she breathed, stealing a glance at her father. "What, um, what are you doing here?"
"Hey, Bessie," he smiled, realizing that his cheeks were starting to heat up with a mixture of nerves and pride. "You, um, you look lovely this evening." It was the safest thing he could say. Visuals from last night were suddenly starting to come to him and he just knew that if her father could read his mind, Zac was a dead man.
Bessie's expression didn't waiver. She continued to glance between both of the men. "I don't--I don't understand..."
"The gentleman paid you a compliment, dear," the judge said to his daughter. "Don't be rude."
"Oh," she said, attempting to bring herself to attention and looking up at Zac. "Forgive me. Um, thank you."
The formalities were killing him. Being under the watchful eye of the judge was awkward and he longed to get out of the house and find some semblance of comfort. Then he suddenly remembered the bouquet of wildflowers in his hand and he offered them to her. "I, um, I wish they were more fresh--"
"They're beautiful," she breathed as she took them and held them close to her nose, allowing a small smile to creep across her face. "Thank you."
"Cathy!" The judge called up the stairs. "We're waiting for you, dear!"
And, suddenly, Bessie looked horrified as she whipped her head around to look at her father. "We? We what?"
"We're going to see the picture that's playing downtown," he answered.
"Daddy," she objected, shaking her head. "I--I don't--just last night you said--"
"I had a long, difficult day yesterday, Bessie. I don't even remember half of what I said last night."
"That's not true," she whispered. "You never forget."
"We really don't have time for this kind of interrogation, dear, we really must get going. Cathy!"
"So--so you're letting me...go out with Zac?"
"Precisely."
"And you're going with us?"
"You need a ride and I'd like to take your mother out."
"Daddy!" Bessie squeaked. "You can not go out on my date with me!"
"Sweetheart, don't raise your voice, it's unbecoming," Mrs. Harlow's voice rang out as she made her way down the stairs, donning her own short-sleeved dress, paired with a white cloche hat and matching white gloves.
"But, Mama--"
"Come on," Mrs. Harlow said, taking Bessie by the hand and leading her down the hallway. "Let's go find a blanket to sit on."
As the women left the room, the two men put their hats back on their heads. "Women," the judge said with a smile as he shook his head. "Complicated bunch, aren't they?"
Zac only smiled and nodded. In case this was a trap, he didn't want to throw in his two cents.
After what felt like centuries, Bessie and Mrs. Harlow finally emerged, Mrs. Harlow carrying a quilt over her arm. Zac nearly broke a sweat over the quilt, until he was able to get a closer look at it and confirm that it was not the quilt that he'd taken Bessie's innocence on last night.
Suddenly, the reminders were beginning to be too much. He had to get out of there.
He got his wish as the four of them walked out of the house and to the Harlows' car. Hanging back behind her parents, Bessie suddenly stopped and grabbed Zac by the hand turning to face him. "I'm so humiliated," she whispered.
Immediately, he felt horrible. He felt like a complete bastard. He should have told her what his intentions were. He should have told her everything. In his defense, he had no idea that this was his plan until after he'd gone home last night, but still. He should have been completely open, he shouldn't have surprised her this way. "Bessie, I'm sorry," he whispered back. "I didn't mean for you to be humiliated. I just--I care so much about you and--and, well, I thought a lot about things last night, about you and your father and...well, I just wanted to make everything right."
"And now he's chaperoning our date. It's like...like, sure, now all of a sudden he's okay with me seeing you...but at what expense? Will we never be alone again? Will he require us to be in his presence at all times? I just--I don't understand--"
"I think you're thinking too much into this--"
"Zac, you don't understand--"
"I do understand," he said gently. "I do. I think you should just relax, see this night through and--and you're still going out with me, you know. WITH your father's permission. And that's pretty great, right?"
She looked into his eyes for a moment in thought before she nodded in agreement. "Right. That's, um, that's right. I should, um, I should be grateful. Thrilled, even."
Zac smiled. "Yeah. That's the spirit."
She turned and they began to walk again. "How are you so comfortable with all this?"
He side-glanced at her and he smirked as he reached over and hooked his pinkie finger into hers. "You forget, I'm a master of illusion. The truth is, I'm dying on the inside. Especially after last night."
At this, Bessie's face turned several shades of red and she grinned as she tucked her hair behind her ear and ducked her head. All of a sudden, with that smile, his entire world fell completely at ease.
*********************
Zac had never been to one of these downtown functions on Thursday nights, but he'd heard about them. After a gruelingly uncomfortable car ride, he was practically itching to get out of the car and make a break for it.
Apparently, Bessie was, as well. She wasted no time--not even waiting for him to open the car door for her--getting out of the car, thanking her father for the ride, and then informing him that she and Zac were going to find someplace to sit. The judge had, once again, been surprisingly agreeable and had let her know that he and Mrs. Harlow would be waiting after the picture to take them all home.
She had taken his hand and they'd gone a few yards before they finally stopped to survey the scene. The picture was being projected onto the side of a furniture building that happened to have a large parking lot attached to it and where the front side of it sat facing the main street. Zac didn't expect the apparent popularity of the occasion, though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Benches had been set up for sitting, a band played in the street for pre-film entertainment, and people milled around everywhere. He saw mostly the country and farming folks out there and tons of young people. If you wanted to go out on a date in Tulsa, Thursday night was apparently the night to do it.
"Oh, I hope the sound works okay tonight," Bessie muttered. "Sometimes the sound doesn't work right and it messes up the picture."
"Bessie," he said to her softly. "I hope you're not upset with me."
She looked up at him and then her face fell in defeat. "I'm not upset. I'm just...very confused. I don't know what to think..."
"Well, I mean...did you want us to be a secret or something?"
"No," she said earnestly, shaking her head. "I didn't want that at all. I just--Daddy changed his mind so quickly that I can't help but wonder if there's a catch somewhere."
"Maybe I finally did something right. Did you ever think of that?"
Zac instantly regretted his tone. He wasn't sure why he'd snapped like that just then. All he wanted was to make her happy. He had done what he'd done that day to make her happy. But, yet, he didn't feel like she was happy.
"Oh, Zac," she whispered, reaching up to brush her hand across his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I've been so focused on my father that I didn't--I've been so selfish and rude..."
"You haven't--"
"I have. And--and this night is only about us. Just me and you. And--and I am grateful that my father seems to have changed his mind. You must have really said something to impress him."
Zac let out a breath and looked around. "I hope so."
Out of nowhere, Bessie reached up and took the cap off of his head and then wrapped her arms around his waist and shoved it into his back pocket. Then she reached up again and pulled the tie out of his hair, slid it onto her wrist, then ran her fingers through his hair and let it fall to onto his collar. After that, she loosened his tie and pulled it from around his neck and shoved it into the other back pocket. She, then, unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and then took his face in her hands and plastered a kiss on his lips and smiled at him. "There," she said triumphantly. "There you are."
He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. He'd tried. He'd tried to clean himself up and look presentable, keeping his hair off of his neck and the tie under his collar, but if this was the way she preferred him, so be it. The other men didn't wear their hair long, they didn't leave the house without their hats, and their three-piece suits were tailored to perfection. The younger men and teenagers were only mild versions of this. And then there was Zac. Hair longer than most women's and now missing essential parts of his "date" attire, and still his girl looked at him like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. And boy, he sure felt like the greatest thing since sliced bread, too.
Bessie, then, took him by the hand once more and her face lit up in a smile. "Come on. Let's go and get some popcorn and then we can find a good place to sit!"
"Popcorn?" He smiled. "You haven't even had dinner, yet."
"Oh, you just don't understand," she said, shaking her head, her expression serious. "I could live on popcorn. I could eat it for the rest of my life and never get sick. Oh, I just love it so!"
He was thoroughly amused, charmed by her enthusiasm. "Popcorn, huh? Wow. If only I'd have given you popcorn at the fair instead of trick flowers..."
"Then last night probably would have happened a lot sooner," she retorted without a thought.
Zac's eyes widened in shock by her directness. "Bessie! That was...well, that was just downright fresh of you."
She covered her mouth and she giggled, her face turning red. "I suppose it was, wasn't it? I apologize--"
"Don't apologize," he replied as they started to walk. "Please, take me to this deliciously sinful popcorn and eat until your heart's content."
He allowed her to lead him to the popcorn stand, stopping to chat with a few people that both he and she knew along the way. They never chatted long, however, Bessie's eye always on the prize that lay just ahead in the form of a stand on large wheels with a tall, glass box that filled their ears with popping and their noses full of buttery aromas.
The popcorn stand was set up at the back of the parking lot, far away from the wall that the picture would be shown on. Alongside the stand were two sections of grassy hills, perpendicular to each other, surrounding the parking lot. They created the perfect amphitheater and was most likely the reason why this place was chosen to show the picture on Thursday nights. Zac caught himself smiling, as he often did upon discovery of Tulsa's little hidden gems.
Bessie's voice ringing out, "Hi, Burt!" upon approaching the popcorn stand suddenly brought Zac back to reality. As they approached the small, wagon-like structure, Zac was surprised to see Burt Anderson standing behind it.
"Well hey, there, little lady," Burt said cheerfully over his thick bifocals. "Haven't seen you around here these past couple of weeks, I was starting to get concerned."
Bessie giggled and glanced at Zac. "I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied lately."
"Yeah. I see," the old man muttered, studying Zac all of a sudden. Zac wracked his brain for a moment. Had he forgotten to mention Bessie to him?
"Well, you know what I came for," Bessie said excitedly. "Nobody pops a bag of popcorn like you do, Burt."
"Don't give me all the credit. Give it to old Beulah, here," Burt said, looking the popcorn machine over. "She's the one with all the talent." Then he turned around and prepared a bag, pouring hot, melted butter all over it.
"Better make that a large bag," Bessie called over his shoulder. "You know I'll eat three-quarters of it by myself!"
"You're right about that!" Burt said cheerfully as he turned around and sat the bag down on the small table. "There you have it, darlin'. You need a soda pop to wash that down with? I have a selection tonight."
Then she leaned in close to him and whispered loudly, "Do you have anything grape back there?"
Burt leaned in closer to Bessie with a smile. "It's your lucky day. I stashed a couple of those Nehi's just for you in case you showed up tonight. They might still be a little cool."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Bessie grinned excitedly. Then, to Zac's horror, she began digging in her purse.
As Burt turned around and sat the soda bottles alongside the popcorn, he shook his head. "No, no--"
And then Zac feverishly dug the money out of his pocket and reached around Bessie to hand it to Burt. Burt lifted his chin to study Zac's hand over his bifocals, and then he looked at Zac. "You trying to give my own money back to me, son?"
And then it dawned on Zac that Bessie had absolutely no idea that he even knew Burt Anderson.
"What?" Bessie asked, turning to look at Zac. "His own money? Zac, did you borrow money from Mr. Anderson?"
"Nope," Burt butted in before Zac could answer. "Zachary, here, earned that fair and square. I'm his boss now. And he's darned good at his job, too."
Zac felt himself blush as Burt doted on him in front of Bessie, but Bessie looked between the two men in bewilderment and confusion, an expression that seemed to be the norm tonight. "Boss?" She asked Zac. "I--I didn't know you had a job--"
"I didn't get the chance to tell you, yet," he said quietly. "I just started today it's--well, it's really not that big a deal..."
"Keep your money, both of you," Burt said all of a sudden, picking up the popcorn and handing it to Bessie. "Much as this stuff makes you happy, you shouldn't have to exchange money for something you love."
"Well--well, at least let me pay for the soda pop--" Bessie said.
"I said no. I take care of my favorite customers. You can make up for it next time. Or maybe next time Zachary can pick up a Thursday shift for me. And you can sit behind him and gorge yourself on popcorn. I'd be willing to turn the other cheek. I ain't getting any younger, anyway."
"You got it, old man," Zac said with a smile. "Thank you."
"Now, go on, the both of you. Go get you a seat somewhere up on the hill while the gettin's good. Enjoy the picture. I'll see you in a couple of days, young man."
"Yes, sir," Zac answered. And then he picked up the soda bottles while Bessie picked up the popcorn bag.
Zac was tied up with nerves as they walked in silence and he was content to let Bessie take the lead. After a moment, she suddenly stopped and turned around to look up at him. "How do you know Burt Anderson?"
He smirked down at her and searched her face playfully. "How do you know Burt Anderson?"
"From the popcorn stand," she answered simply. "I come here every Thursday night. Sometimes with Millie, sometimes with Joey Martin, sometimes with my parents."
"Well I've known Burt since last year. Helped him clean up an overturned car of feed. And then I went to see him this morning and he gave me a job in his store. It ain't much, maybe one day a week. Pay is next to nothing. But it's better than nothing, so at least that's good. I'm trying, Bessie. I'm really trying."
"I didn't even know you felt like you had to try," she whispered.
He couldn't help himself. Soda bottles in his hands and all, he wrapped his arms around her and he kissed her forehead. They stood that way for a moment before Bessie's quiet voice came across almost darkly, "You're squishing my popcorn."
"Oh," he said, pulling himself away as a few kernels fell from the nearly overflowing bag.
She glanced at the fallen casualties and she looked directly into his eyes. "I will break up with you over my popcorn."
Zac narrowed his eyes in amusement before he smirked at her. "And, here, I thought I came here with only Clark Gable to worry about."
"You have much to learn," she simply stated as she walked past him and didn't look back.
The blood rose to his cheeks and he smiled as he shook the hair out of his face and followed her. He didn't know if it was the love-making or what had happened, but he was beginning to like this flirty ferocity she seemed to have hidden deep inside her. It only made her that much more adorable.
He hadn't realized just how much time they'd already spent between talking to people and getting popcorn, but by the time they'd found a spot to sit on in the grass above the parking lot, the sun was finally beginning to set. Settling down onto the ground, Bessie tucked her legs underneath her as she sat on the inside of his leg, his knee bent behind her back. She had turned her body so that she could see him when she spoke and had rested her popcorn bag in the small space between them so it wouldn't fall. He continued to hold their soda bottles, letting them dangle from his hands as he rested his arms on his legs and he instantly became completely oblivious to the inane meandering and chattering that was going on around them.
To his surprise, Bessie leaned over and she kissed him gently, letting her lips linger against his before she pulled away and breathed against his lips, "I'm so proud of you. And even if you didn't go and get that job, I was proud of you anyway."
And in that instant, he fell. He had already been falling, but now he was no longer grasping for the edges, looking for something to grab onto to catch him. He welcomed the fall, the feeling of weightlessness and the looseness of his body and mind was a calm and a happiness that he never knew existed. He was in such a state of euphoria that he felt no shame whatsoever in the way he completely submitted to her, heart, body, and soul. He was hers. He belonged solely to her, to do with him as she pleased for as long as she wanted to keep him.
"Bessie," he whispered, his eyes closed and his lips lingering close to hers. "Bessie..."
And then she shoved a popcorn kernel into his mouth.
His eyes popped open and he furrowed his brow as he crunched the snack forcefully between his teeth. "What was that about?"
"You're lucky I'm willing to share." Then her grin widened. "Isn't it so good? The way the butter melts in your mouth..."
And then he was perfectly content to let her chatter nonsensically and feed him popcorn, one kernel at a time.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
"Jim. Are we going to stand by the car all night or are we going to find a bench for the picture?"
Judge Harlow's wife had suddenly shaken him out of his trance. He'd been watching the scene unfold at the top of the hill above the parking lot across from them with a smile on his face that he didn't realize he'd had until he felt his mouth relax at the sound of Catherine's voice. At the top of he hill, Zac and Bessie sat together. He felt like they sat a little too close for comfort, but both of Zac's hands were occupied with soda bottles, so that made the judge feel a little better about it. But his heart warmed, nonetheless, as he watched his daughter smile and laugh and talk till her heart was content. He knew his daughter and he knew that when she was in an especially good mood, she became quite the chatterbox. He couldn't count how many times in the young woman's life that he'd had to shush her or bribe her to keep her mouth closed. She could drive you insane, talking your ear off. But not Zac, apparently. Zac's head never turned away from her, his body language never read impatience, and he smiled and he hung on to every word Bessie said. The judge watched Bessie feed him popcorn and he watched her mindlessly put her soda pop back in Zac's hand after taking a drink, Zac's face never showing a shred of aggravation. They were comfortable and they were happy and it was all he ever wanted for his daughter.
The judge was ashamed of himself.
"Oh. I'm sorry, honey," he said to his wife. "Of course we're going to look at the picture."
"Jim? What happened here tonight? What is this?"
Judge Harlow crossed his arms over his chest and rested himself against the car as he nodded toward the top of the hill. "Look at them up there, Cathy. Look how she smiles, look how she laughs. She's happy, Cathy. Truly, genuinely happy. And the truth is, after I came to bed last night, I didn't feel good about myself. And--and I stood there and I listened to her speak to me and I looked at her face and I realized that you're right. She is an adult. And I should--I should be helping her grow, not stunting it. And I don't want her to resent me. And, I mean--look at him, Cathy. It's not like he's really a bad guy. And he enjoys her company and he keeps a watchful eye on her. It just--it reminds me of us. You and me. And I don't want to treat them the way your father treated us."
"Oh, Jim," his wife whispered as she slid her hand into his and rested her head on his shoulder. "How I do love you so."
"Am I doing the right thing here, Cathy? Allowing this to happen? I mean, people in town are going to--"
"Why care what the people around town think? Bessie doesn't care. Sweetheart, in this day and age, with things being the way they are, nobody is thinking twice about it. Nobody outside of your cronies and their families, anyway, and even then it's none of their business. And so what if he won't be able to give her quite the life that she's accustomed to? If you think about it, what has she ever really asked for in life? To see a picture or two or to swim in the river with her cousin? She's not like these other...princesses in our circle, who demand that their daddies shower them with jewels and designer perfume. Her hands got as dirty as ours at four in the morning, collecting eggs and picking beans. It was good for her, I think. It taught her to respect hard work and it taught her the value of money--and how to learn to be happy without it. You raised her well, Jim. You did a fabulous job. And now she sees the good in a man that others probably never stopped to think twice of--and he is absolutely wonderful to her. He's respectful and he's considerate and he makes her happy. And he doesn't have to earn a three-figure salary to do it. That is happiness, Jim. That is bliss."
"But is it reality? The reality is, she'll have the rest of the summer before she's gone. He'll be here, doing God knows what. And...and if she did come home and marry him, well...well, he'll be thirty and that's enough to make my stomach upset. But more importantly, the struggle will become real. No more blissful days filled with no worries and no cares, no more love letters, no more--anything. All there will be is the reality of the struggle. The ugly side of life. And I don't want that for her."
"It's only ugly if you make it ugly, and it's only a struggle if you make it a struggle. And we don't know what the next four years is going to hold. For all we know, he could become a successful business owner or something and become richer than you. We just don't know. But we have to allow Bessie to make her own decisions and see it through. This is her relationship. And she's got more going on between those pretty little ears than you might think."
Judge Harlow sighed and removed his hand from Catherine's, opting to slide his arm around her shoulders and hug her close. "Why are you always right all the time?"
"Because the woman is always right," she whispered playfully.
"Don't say that too loud," he teased back. "I don't want anyone to overhear and know that the judge doesn't wear the pants in his household."
Catherine looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, and muttered, "Funny. You always seem to enjoy not wearing the pants in the household."
The judge's cheeks turned red and he chuckled at his wife as he leaned down and muttered in her ear. "Does that mean I'm gonna get lucky after this date?"
"If you behave yourself tonight, we'll see."
Feeling like a million bucks, Judge Harlow led his beautiful wife toward an open bench to get comfortable in time for the picture to start.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Zac had eaten enough popcorn to make him sick.
But as long as Bessie kept shoving it in his mouth, he was going to keep eating it. At this point, he didn't think she even realized she was doing it anymore. But he was so completely at her mercy now that if she wanted to shove it in fistfuls down his throat, he would have let her do it with a smile on his face.
"So what dreaded picture do you have me suffering through?" He teased, stalling for a break from the popcorn.
Her face fell. "It's not...it's not that bad..."
"Come on," he said gently. "You know what I mean. I was...I was only joshing you, Bess."
"I know. But it's my favorite picture..."
"Then it's my favorite picture," he grinned.
A shy smile crept across her face. "It can't be your favorite picture, you haven't even seen it yet."
"I love everything you love. Doesn't matter."
"Even Scout?" She asked hopefully.
His nostrils flared and his lip curled up. "Even the damn dog," he muttered through his teeth.
Bessie giggled with delight. "Oh, I knew it! I just knew you didn't hate him!"
"What are we seeing?" He asked again, attempting to change the subject.
Her eyes glittered with enthusiasm. "It's called No Man of Her Own--"
"Oh, lovely, we're on a splendid track already," he said sarcastically.
Bessie scowled at him. "Don't be rude! I'll break up with you over a Carole Lombard picture."
Furrowing his brow, Zac leaned over, close to her face, and looked her in the eye. "I don't play the 'I'll break up with you, if' game. If you threaten to break up with me again, I will cut my hair."
The blood drained from Bessie's face and her jaw dropped in horrified shock. Zac grinned in triumph at the reaction he had been going for. "You wouldn't..."
"Oh, I absolutely would," he said earnestly. "Why, in vaudeville, my hair was so short, you could practically see my scalp. It's why hardly anybody recognizes me now."
"Zac, you can't joke about a thing like that," she whispered.
"Don't threaten to break up with me anymore."
"Okay," she said, nodding slowly. It was adorable how seriously she took the current state of his hair. He couldn't deny that it flattered him a little bit, too.
Smiling, he kissed her forehead and brushed his nose against hers. "Now, about this picture..."
"Oh, yes!" She said, her enthusiasm returning. "Carole Lombard is a small-town librarian and Clark Gable is a gambler who hides out in her town. They fall for each other, but she doesn't learn about his cheating ways until after they're married. And then he goes to prison and she finds out she's pregnant and then he comes back and then they both live happily ever after."
"Well, I guess there's no point in watching it now, since you told me the ending. Wanna hide behind a tree and neck for the rest of the night?"
"Zac!" She scolded. "Now I've had just about enough of your snide remarks--"
"Relax," he chuckled, amused with her as he searched her face. "I'm just joshing with you, that's all. I know you're excited to see this picture and I'm gonna sit here and watch it with you. I promise. And I won't say a word. Double promise."
"Oh," she replied sheepishly, her face falling. "Well. I guess I still have to learn when you're joshing and when you're not, huh?"
"You'll get there. You should probably turn around now, the sun's going down and I think they're going to start soon."
"Thank you for bringing me tonight," she said quietly. "Thank you for speaking to my father and for the flowers and for watching with me. I know how much you...you know, hate talking pictures and such. But it means a lot to me that you're willing to give them a second chance."
"I'll do anything for you, sweet girl," he whispered. "Anything in the world."
Smiling, she stole a quick kiss and she turned around, moving the popcorn from between them and settling herself comfortably against his chest. This, right here, was what heaven felt like.
It was only a mere ten minutes or so into the picture when Zac knew he'd lost Bessie. He'd lost her to Clark Gable, the only man at the moment whose neck he couldn't get his hands around. But that was okay, because Clark Gable wasn't holding her close to him and he wasn't eating popcorn out of her hand. He was busy pursuing Carole Lombard, the feisty, blonde librarian, and Zac couldn't help but silently cheer him on. In spite of himself, he found himself following along with the story.
As she sat between his legs, wrapped up in his arms, her body resting comfortably against his chest as if they'd sat like that for years, Zac could hardly pay attention to the picture. He found himself in and out of focus on it, instead, finding himself more mesmerized by the way Bessie was so wrapped up in it, that he couldn't help the words that came out of his mouth. His heart was full, and he didn't know if he was feeling the emotion from the picture or the romance that was created from sitting in the dark under the stars, but he was compelled to breathe quietly into her ear, "Bessie. I have fallen so helplessly for you. Day after day, moment after moment, I only grow more and more helpless."
He let his nose and his forehead rest blissfully against the side of her head as she continued to watch the picture. She was so entrapped at this point that there was no rescuing her until the picture was over.
Even still, as he lifted his head to watch her eyes as they glittered against the light of the projected film, a quiet sigh escaped his chest at how beautiful and content she was. He couldn't help himself once more as he whispered, "I love you, Bessie. Did you know that?"
Suddenly, she giggled along with a chorus of gigglers around them at something that had happened on the film. Her response to him was yet another mindless kernel of popcorn, fed to him over her shoulder. She hadn't heard a single word he'd said, but that was okay. This wasn't the time or place to tell her how he felt, anyway. Grinning, now amused, he chewed the popcorn between his teeth and tightened his arms around his girl and gladly received all the popcorn she wanted to feed him as he allowed himself to get lost in the picture with her.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Standing underneath the light that shone outside the public restroom, Bessie stood and patiently waited for Zac to emerge. She was beginning to regret her dinner of buttered popcorn and grape soda pop, but then she remembered how good they tasted and she couldn't help but smile to herself. It had been the perfect night--her favorite picture, her favorite food, her favorite drink, and her favorite man. She hated that they had to start back to the car now, where her father waited to drive them home, but the time she'd spent with Zac tonight had made it all worth it.
Her stomach turned ill flip flops as seven or eight boys she recognized approached her. She wasn't sure where they had come from, but she hoped that they ignored her and left quickly. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. These were football players, both high school and college--Billy Connors's friends. Bessie's heart began to pound.
"Hi, Bessie," one of them, the biggest one, smiled at her. "You out here all alone?"
"No," she retorted, lifting her chin high. "I'm waiting for my beau. He'll be along any moment now."
The big one smiled, and glanced around at his buddies, who flanked him, as they closed in on her a little closer. "It ain't proper for a lady to be out at night alone, don't you know?"
"I told you," she replied, struggling to keep her confidence. "I'm not alone. My beau is right inside the restroom, there, and now you boys are here. How could I possibly be alone, now?"
"You have a point," he smirked. "Say, uh, don't you want to know how Billy is doing? Since he was so savagely attacked on your date?"
She cleared her throat and breathed a desperate, silent breath in through her nose. "I get updates on his condition, whether they're warranted or not."
"He says you haven't visited him. He's been so lonely, all bedridden and in pain."
"Billy and I hardly knew each other before that night. There's no reason he should care about what I'm doing at all."
"Well, he liked you, Bessie," the big guy replied, his voice full of sickening sorrow. "He liked you a lot. He was real disappointed by the way things turned out."
"Yeah? Well. He sure had a funny way of showing it."
"Hey," Zac's voice finally rang out, relief washing over Bessie's body as his arm slid around her shoulders. He smiled confidently at the group that had surrounded her. "How's it going, fellas? There a problem here or something?"
The guys all glanced at each other, each one failing to hide their smirks. "Yeah," the spokesman finally said. "Yeah, there is a problem." Then he turned to a guy beside him. "Get her out of here, boys. Dames don't need to see this."
Bessie's blood turned cold and her body shook with fear. "No," her quiet voice said firmly as two of them took her by the hands and then gripped her by the arms. "No. Get your hands off me!"
"HEY!" Zac barked. "Take your hands off of her!"
"That sounds exactly like what Billy said he said to you the night you stole his dame away from him," the spokesman sneered at him.
Several feet away, held tight by two high school boys who were a class underneath her, Bessie watched two of the bigger college boys take hold of Zac, holding his arms behind his back as they locked their arms around his elbows tightly, rendering him immobile, no matter how hard he tried to get out of it. "You let go of me right now," he sneered through his teeth, "or I swear to God you'll live to regret this, just like that punk, Billy, did."
"Aww," the biggest one patronized, bringing his face close to Zac's. "You really think you can take seven of us, gypsy? Cause you sure don't seem up to it right now."
"Why don't you let me go and fight me man-to-man? Leave here with a little bit of dignity."
"NO!" Bessie called loudly. "Leave him alone!"
"Shut her up!" The big guy called over his shoulder. Then he turned his attention back to Zac. "This is for Billy."
And then, to Bessie's absolute horror, she watched him punch Zac in the stomach, and then twice in the face before stepping out of the way to let another guy have at him. She watched his body struggle to stay upright and his head began to hang from the impact.
"NO!" She screamed, violently writhing her body out of the high school boys' grips. "STOP IT, YOU'RE HURTING HIM!"
"Hey," one of the high school boys said, annoyed, as he tried to keep ahold of her. "Hey, keep her still."
"I'm trying," the other one complained. "But she's so damn squirmy."
Finally, Bessie found success and managed to break free, making a mad dash straight for Zac, and stepped in the middle as one of the college guys had his fist ready for another hit. She threw her body against Zac and wrapped her arms around his neck, the college guys still holding him up, knowing that they wouldn't dare take another liberty with him as long as she was in the way. "Leave him alone!" She sobbed.
"What the hell, I said keep her away!" The big one barked at the high school boys.
Turning her head away from Zac, Bessie managed a scream at the top of her lungs, "DADDY!"
"Daddy?" One of the guys holding Zac said. "Man, is her daddy here?"
"I never saw him," another one remarked.
"Shit, here comes the judge!" Another one hissed. "And he's got a deputy!"
The college boys that had ahold of Zac let him go and he tumbled to the ground, taking Bessie with him. He wasn't unconscious, but he winced in pain and was already struggling to stand. "I'll kill them," he spat, sitting up and clutching his stomach. "I'll kill them all. Did they hurt you?"
"No," she shook her head. "No, but you're bleeding--"
"There's no sense in any of you trying to run, so you can just stay right where you are," her father's voice sternly rang out. "I already have all your names, I watched the whole thing from across the parking lot. I only wish I'd gotten here in time to keep it from escalating. No matter, though. I watched you put your hands on my daughter, I watched you assault an innocent man, and not only are you having charges pressed against each one of you, but you also have a ton of witnesses to corroborate what happened here. Stupid move, boys. Real stupid move."
Bessie had never been so glad to see her father in her entire life. "Daddy," she squeaked as she stood and tried to help Zac up off the pavement. "Daddy, they hurt him."
"I know," he said solemnly. "I saw."
"He didn't do anything, Daddy. He didn't touch any of them."
"I know."
"I'm okay," Zac's voice groaned from behind them. "Really, I'm--they punch like girls, the lot of them. I'm fine, I've taken worse."
Except that he wasn't. His eye was swollen and blood came from his cheekbone, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Bessie could already see the colors staring to trail along his face between the wounds. His beautiful, perfect face...
She sniffed as the tears welled up again and she hugged him once more, unable to help herself. "Oh, Zac. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."
"Come on, you two," her father said. "Head on over to the car, I sent your mother for a couple of wet towels. I'll meet you over there, I just have to wait on a couple more cars to show up to escort these fine lads to the station."
Zac was silent as they made their way to the car, Bessie's arm hooked tightly around his. His head hung low while his hair hid his face as people stopped to stare at them as they passed. The entire place had witnessed the attack, it seemed, and the ones who didn't had already caught wind of the aftermath.
As soon as they'd made it to the car, her mother met them with wet rags. "Burt had a couple of clean ones," she said breathlessly as she handed them to Bessie. "This should take care of him until we can get him home."
Grateful, Bessie took the rags from her mother and intended to dab the blood off of Zac's face with it. To her surprise, however, he dodged her advance and snatched the rag out of her hand. "I can do it," he spat. "I'm not helpless."
"Nobody said you were," Bessie replied carefully, trying not to let him hurt her feelings. "I'm only trying to help."
"I don't need help. I can do it myself."
Bessie glanced at her mother and her mother simply nodded at her. She wasn't sure what that meant, but she took it to mean that it was okay to let Zac take the reins for now and Bessie opted to keep quiet. It was apparent that Zac wanted nothing to do with anything she had to offer him at the moment and it wouldn't have surprised her if he opted to walk himself home.
She WAS surprised, however, that he got in the car and allowed her father to drive him. Instead of sitting in the front seat, as he had the first time, he now sat in the back with Bessie, resting his head against the back of the seat and staring aimlessly out the window as he held the rag to his face. His eye was only swelling more and more and Bessie had never felt so powerless in her life.
Her father slowed the car to a stop next to the woods where the gypsy camp was located and Zac wasted no time reaching for the door. "Zac," she whispered.
"Thank you, sir," he said to her father as he opened the car door. "Thank you for, um--for everything."
"You're welcome," her father replied solemnly as Zac stepped out of the car.
"Zac," she whispered again as she scooted hastily across the seat and looked out the open door.
"Goodnight, sweet girl," he said to her quietly. "Sweet dreams." And then he shut the door on her.
Bessie sniffed her tears back as her father began to drive away. "Daddy," she squeaked.
"Everything is all right," he said gently. "His pride got hurt tonight more than his face did."
"What they did wasn't fair."
"I know."
"Billy only got what was coming to him. Zac didn't deserve it."
"I know."
"Daddy?" She whispered.
"Yes, dear?"
"They said he took me away from Billy. But he never took me away from Billy. He didn't have to, I was already his. I think--I think they beat him up because--" She swallowed hard, the tears now rolling down her cheeks. "Daddy, he loves me."
The rest of the ride home was spent in silence.
(PART TWO)
When Bessie walked down the stairs, Zac nearly forgot that he was in the judge's company. This was a moment he'd dreamed of--a moment he should have had on the night of the town social when she'd worn that beautiful peach dress.
Of course, she looked every bit as breathtaking as she always did. But now that Zac felt like he was actually allowed to appreciate her, her beauty only grew as the wall around his heart continued to disintegrate. Her dress was a lovely pastel green--he loved her in pastels--that made sure to bring out the color in her hazel eyes. The sleeves were short, the collar turned down, and the A-line length fell just below her knees. On her feet, she'd buckled on a pair of small, black heels and she carried a small, beaded purse with a thin strap on her shoulder.
She'd been preoccupied with her purse and didn't notice Zac until she'd reached the bottom and looked up, her eyes widening in complete bewilderment. "Zac," she breathed, stealing a glance at her father. "What, um, what are you doing here?"
"Hey, Bessie," he smiled, realizing that his cheeks were starting to heat up with a mixture of nerves and pride. "You, um, you look lovely this evening." It was the safest thing he could say. Visuals from last night were suddenly starting to come to him and he just knew that if her father could read his mind, Zac was a dead man.
Bessie's expression didn't waiver. She continued to glance between both of the men. "I don't--I don't understand..."
"The gentleman paid you a compliment, dear," the judge said to his daughter. "Don't be rude."
"Oh," she said, attempting to bring herself to attention and looking up at Zac. "Forgive me. Um, thank you."
The formalities were killing him. Being under the watchful eye of the judge was awkward and he longed to get out of the house and find some semblance of comfort. Then he suddenly remembered the bouquet of wildflowers in his hand and he offered them to her. "I, um, I wish they were more fresh--"
"They're beautiful," she breathed as she took them and held them close to her nose, allowing a small smile to creep across her face. "Thank you."
"Cathy!" The judge called up the stairs. "We're waiting for you, dear!"
And, suddenly, Bessie looked horrified as she whipped her head around to look at her father. "We? We what?"
"We're going to see the picture that's playing downtown," he answered.
"Daddy," she objected, shaking her head. "I--I don't--just last night you said--"
"I had a long, difficult day yesterday, Bessie. I don't even remember half of what I said last night."
"That's not true," she whispered. "You never forget."
"We really don't have time for this kind of interrogation, dear, we really must get going. Cathy!"
"So--so you're letting me...go out with Zac?"
"Precisely."
"And you're going with us?"
"You need a ride and I'd like to take your mother out."
"Daddy!" Bessie squeaked. "You can not go out on my date with me!"
"Sweetheart, don't raise your voice, it's unbecoming," Mrs. Harlow's voice rang out as she made her way down the stairs, donning her own short-sleeved dress, paired with a white cloche hat and matching white gloves.
"But, Mama--"
"Come on," Mrs. Harlow said, taking Bessie by the hand and leading her down the hallway. "Let's go find a blanket to sit on."
As the women left the room, the two men put their hats back on their heads. "Women," the judge said with a smile as he shook his head. "Complicated bunch, aren't they?"
Zac only smiled and nodded. In case this was a trap, he didn't want to throw in his two cents.
After what felt like centuries, Bessie and Mrs. Harlow finally emerged, Mrs. Harlow carrying a quilt over her arm. Zac nearly broke a sweat over the quilt, until he was able to get a closer look at it and confirm that it was not the quilt that he'd taken Bessie's innocence on last night.
Suddenly, the reminders were beginning to be too much. He had to get out of there.
He got his wish as the four of them walked out of the house and to the Harlows' car. Hanging back behind her parents, Bessie suddenly stopped and grabbed Zac by the hand turning to face him. "I'm so humiliated," she whispered.
Immediately, he felt horrible. He felt like a complete bastard. He should have told her what his intentions were. He should have told her everything. In his defense, he had no idea that this was his plan until after he'd gone home last night, but still. He should have been completely open, he shouldn't have surprised her this way. "Bessie, I'm sorry," he whispered back. "I didn't mean for you to be humiliated. I just--I care so much about you and--and, well, I thought a lot about things last night, about you and your father and...well, I just wanted to make everything right."
"And now he's chaperoning our date. It's like...like, sure, now all of a sudden he's okay with me seeing you...but at what expense? Will we never be alone again? Will he require us to be in his presence at all times? I just--I don't understand--"
"I think you're thinking too much into this--"
"Zac, you don't understand--"
"I do understand," he said gently. "I do. I think you should just relax, see this night through and--and you're still going out with me, you know. WITH your father's permission. And that's pretty great, right?"
She looked into his eyes for a moment in thought before she nodded in agreement. "Right. That's, um, that's right. I should, um, I should be grateful. Thrilled, even."
Zac smiled. "Yeah. That's the spirit."
She turned and they began to walk again. "How are you so comfortable with all this?"
He side-glanced at her and he smirked as he reached over and hooked his pinkie finger into hers. "You forget, I'm a master of illusion. The truth is, I'm dying on the inside. Especially after last night."
At this, Bessie's face turned several shades of red and she grinned as she tucked her hair behind her ear and ducked her head. All of a sudden, with that smile, his entire world fell completely at ease.
*********************
Zac had never been to one of these downtown functions on Thursday nights, but he'd heard about them. After a gruelingly uncomfortable car ride, he was practically itching to get out of the car and make a break for it.
Apparently, Bessie was, as well. She wasted no time--not even waiting for him to open the car door for her--getting out of the car, thanking her father for the ride, and then informing him that she and Zac were going to find someplace to sit. The judge had, once again, been surprisingly agreeable and had let her know that he and Mrs. Harlow would be waiting after the picture to take them all home.
She had taken his hand and they'd gone a few yards before they finally stopped to survey the scene. The picture was being projected onto the side of a furniture building that happened to have a large parking lot attached to it and where the front side of it sat facing the main street. Zac didn't expect the apparent popularity of the occasion, though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Benches had been set up for sitting, a band played in the street for pre-film entertainment, and people milled around everywhere. He saw mostly the country and farming folks out there and tons of young people. If you wanted to go out on a date in Tulsa, Thursday night was apparently the night to do it.
"Oh, I hope the sound works okay tonight," Bessie muttered. "Sometimes the sound doesn't work right and it messes up the picture."
"Bessie," he said to her softly. "I hope you're not upset with me."
She looked up at him and then her face fell in defeat. "I'm not upset. I'm just...very confused. I don't know what to think..."
"Well, I mean...did you want us to be a secret or something?"
"No," she said earnestly, shaking her head. "I didn't want that at all. I just--Daddy changed his mind so quickly that I can't help but wonder if there's a catch somewhere."
"Maybe I finally did something right. Did you ever think of that?"
Zac instantly regretted his tone. He wasn't sure why he'd snapped like that just then. All he wanted was to make her happy. He had done what he'd done that day to make her happy. But, yet, he didn't feel like she was happy.
"Oh, Zac," she whispered, reaching up to brush her hand across his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I've been so focused on my father that I didn't--I've been so selfish and rude..."
"You haven't--"
"I have. And--and this night is only about us. Just me and you. And--and I am grateful that my father seems to have changed his mind. You must have really said something to impress him."
Zac let out a breath and looked around. "I hope so."
Out of nowhere, Bessie reached up and took the cap off of his head and then wrapped her arms around his waist and shoved it into his back pocket. Then she reached up again and pulled the tie out of his hair, slid it onto her wrist, then ran her fingers through his hair and let it fall to onto his collar. After that, she loosened his tie and pulled it from around his neck and shoved it into the other back pocket. She, then, unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and then took his face in her hands and plastered a kiss on his lips and smiled at him. "There," she said triumphantly. "There you are."
He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. He'd tried. He'd tried to clean himself up and look presentable, keeping his hair off of his neck and the tie under his collar, but if this was the way she preferred him, so be it. The other men didn't wear their hair long, they didn't leave the house without their hats, and their three-piece suits were tailored to perfection. The younger men and teenagers were only mild versions of this. And then there was Zac. Hair longer than most women's and now missing essential parts of his "date" attire, and still his girl looked at him like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. And boy, he sure felt like the greatest thing since sliced bread, too.
Bessie, then, took him by the hand once more and her face lit up in a smile. "Come on. Let's go and get some popcorn and then we can find a good place to sit!"
"Popcorn?" He smiled. "You haven't even had dinner, yet."
"Oh, you just don't understand," she said, shaking her head, her expression serious. "I could live on popcorn. I could eat it for the rest of my life and never get sick. Oh, I just love it so!"
He was thoroughly amused, charmed by her enthusiasm. "Popcorn, huh? Wow. If only I'd have given you popcorn at the fair instead of trick flowers..."
"Then last night probably would have happened a lot sooner," she retorted without a thought.
Zac's eyes widened in shock by her directness. "Bessie! That was...well, that was just downright fresh of you."
She covered her mouth and she giggled, her face turning red. "I suppose it was, wasn't it? I apologize--"
"Don't apologize," he replied as they started to walk. "Please, take me to this deliciously sinful popcorn and eat until your heart's content."
He allowed her to lead him to the popcorn stand, stopping to chat with a few people that both he and she knew along the way. They never chatted long, however, Bessie's eye always on the prize that lay just ahead in the form of a stand on large wheels with a tall, glass box that filled their ears with popping and their noses full of buttery aromas.
The popcorn stand was set up at the back of the parking lot, far away from the wall that the picture would be shown on. Alongside the stand were two sections of grassy hills, perpendicular to each other, surrounding the parking lot. They created the perfect amphitheater and was most likely the reason why this place was chosen to show the picture on Thursday nights. Zac caught himself smiling, as he often did upon discovery of Tulsa's little hidden gems.
Bessie's voice ringing out, "Hi, Burt!" upon approaching the popcorn stand suddenly brought Zac back to reality. As they approached the small, wagon-like structure, Zac was surprised to see Burt Anderson standing behind it.
"Well hey, there, little lady," Burt said cheerfully over his thick bifocals. "Haven't seen you around here these past couple of weeks, I was starting to get concerned."
Bessie giggled and glanced at Zac. "I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied lately."
"Yeah. I see," the old man muttered, studying Zac all of a sudden. Zac wracked his brain for a moment. Had he forgotten to mention Bessie to him?
"Well, you know what I came for," Bessie said excitedly. "Nobody pops a bag of popcorn like you do, Burt."
"Don't give me all the credit. Give it to old Beulah, here," Burt said, looking the popcorn machine over. "She's the one with all the talent." Then he turned around and prepared a bag, pouring hot, melted butter all over it.
"Better make that a large bag," Bessie called over his shoulder. "You know I'll eat three-quarters of it by myself!"
"You're right about that!" Burt said cheerfully as he turned around and sat the bag down on the small table. "There you have it, darlin'. You need a soda pop to wash that down with? I have a selection tonight."
Then she leaned in close to him and whispered loudly, "Do you have anything grape back there?"
Burt leaned in closer to Bessie with a smile. "It's your lucky day. I stashed a couple of those Nehi's just for you in case you showed up tonight. They might still be a little cool."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Bessie grinned excitedly. Then, to Zac's horror, she began digging in her purse.
As Burt turned around and sat the soda bottles alongside the popcorn, he shook his head. "No, no--"
And then Zac feverishly dug the money out of his pocket and reached around Bessie to hand it to Burt. Burt lifted his chin to study Zac's hand over his bifocals, and then he looked at Zac. "You trying to give my own money back to me, son?"
And then it dawned on Zac that Bessie had absolutely no idea that he even knew Burt Anderson.
"What?" Bessie asked, turning to look at Zac. "His own money? Zac, did you borrow money from Mr. Anderson?"
"Nope," Burt butted in before Zac could answer. "Zachary, here, earned that fair and square. I'm his boss now. And he's darned good at his job, too."
Zac felt himself blush as Burt doted on him in front of Bessie, but Bessie looked between the two men in bewilderment and confusion, an expression that seemed to be the norm tonight. "Boss?" She asked Zac. "I--I didn't know you had a job--"
"I didn't get the chance to tell you, yet," he said quietly. "I just started today it's--well, it's really not that big a deal..."
"Keep your money, both of you," Burt said all of a sudden, picking up the popcorn and handing it to Bessie. "Much as this stuff makes you happy, you shouldn't have to exchange money for something you love."
"Well--well, at least let me pay for the soda pop--" Bessie said.
"I said no. I take care of my favorite customers. You can make up for it next time. Or maybe next time Zachary can pick up a Thursday shift for me. And you can sit behind him and gorge yourself on popcorn. I'd be willing to turn the other cheek. I ain't getting any younger, anyway."
"You got it, old man," Zac said with a smile. "Thank you."
"Now, go on, the both of you. Go get you a seat somewhere up on the hill while the gettin's good. Enjoy the picture. I'll see you in a couple of days, young man."
"Yes, sir," Zac answered. And then he picked up the soda bottles while Bessie picked up the popcorn bag.
Zac was tied up with nerves as they walked in silence and he was content to let Bessie take the lead. After a moment, she suddenly stopped and turned around to look up at him. "How do you know Burt Anderson?"
He smirked down at her and searched her face playfully. "How do you know Burt Anderson?"
"From the popcorn stand," she answered simply. "I come here every Thursday night. Sometimes with Millie, sometimes with Joey Martin, sometimes with my parents."
"Well I've known Burt since last year. Helped him clean up an overturned car of feed. And then I went to see him this morning and he gave me a job in his store. It ain't much, maybe one day a week. Pay is next to nothing. But it's better than nothing, so at least that's good. I'm trying, Bessie. I'm really trying."
"I didn't even know you felt like you had to try," she whispered.
He couldn't help himself. Soda bottles in his hands and all, he wrapped his arms around her and he kissed her forehead. They stood that way for a moment before Bessie's quiet voice came across almost darkly, "You're squishing my popcorn."
"Oh," he said, pulling himself away as a few kernels fell from the nearly overflowing bag.
She glanced at the fallen casualties and she looked directly into his eyes. "I will break up with you over my popcorn."
Zac narrowed his eyes in amusement before he smirked at her. "And, here, I thought I came here with only Clark Gable to worry about."
"You have much to learn," she simply stated as she walked past him and didn't look back.
The blood rose to his cheeks and he smiled as he shook the hair out of his face and followed her. He didn't know if it was the love-making or what had happened, but he was beginning to like this flirty ferocity she seemed to have hidden deep inside her. It only made her that much more adorable.
He hadn't realized just how much time they'd already spent between talking to people and getting popcorn, but by the time they'd found a spot to sit on in the grass above the parking lot, the sun was finally beginning to set. Settling down onto the ground, Bessie tucked her legs underneath her as she sat on the inside of his leg, his knee bent behind her back. She had turned her body so that she could see him when she spoke and had rested her popcorn bag in the small space between them so it wouldn't fall. He continued to hold their soda bottles, letting them dangle from his hands as he rested his arms on his legs and he instantly became completely oblivious to the inane meandering and chattering that was going on around them.
To his surprise, Bessie leaned over and she kissed him gently, letting her lips linger against his before she pulled away and breathed against his lips, "I'm so proud of you. And even if you didn't go and get that job, I was proud of you anyway."
And in that instant, he fell. He had already been falling, but now he was no longer grasping for the edges, looking for something to grab onto to catch him. He welcomed the fall, the feeling of weightlessness and the looseness of his body and mind was a calm and a happiness that he never knew existed. He was in such a state of euphoria that he felt no shame whatsoever in the way he completely submitted to her, heart, body, and soul. He was hers. He belonged solely to her, to do with him as she pleased for as long as she wanted to keep him.
"Bessie," he whispered, his eyes closed and his lips lingering close to hers. "Bessie..."
And then she shoved a popcorn kernel into his mouth.
His eyes popped open and he furrowed his brow as he crunched the snack forcefully between his teeth. "What was that about?"
"You're lucky I'm willing to share." Then her grin widened. "Isn't it so good? The way the butter melts in your mouth..."
And then he was perfectly content to let her chatter nonsensically and feed him popcorn, one kernel at a time.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
"Jim. Are we going to stand by the car all night or are we going to find a bench for the picture?"
Judge Harlow's wife had suddenly shaken him out of his trance. He'd been watching the scene unfold at the top of the hill above the parking lot across from them with a smile on his face that he didn't realize he'd had until he felt his mouth relax at the sound of Catherine's voice. At the top of he hill, Zac and Bessie sat together. He felt like they sat a little too close for comfort, but both of Zac's hands were occupied with soda bottles, so that made the judge feel a little better about it. But his heart warmed, nonetheless, as he watched his daughter smile and laugh and talk till her heart was content. He knew his daughter and he knew that when she was in an especially good mood, she became quite the chatterbox. He couldn't count how many times in the young woman's life that he'd had to shush her or bribe her to keep her mouth closed. She could drive you insane, talking your ear off. But not Zac, apparently. Zac's head never turned away from her, his body language never read impatience, and he smiled and he hung on to every word Bessie said. The judge watched Bessie feed him popcorn and he watched her mindlessly put her soda pop back in Zac's hand after taking a drink, Zac's face never showing a shred of aggravation. They were comfortable and they were happy and it was all he ever wanted for his daughter.
The judge was ashamed of himself.
"Oh. I'm sorry, honey," he said to his wife. "Of course we're going to look at the picture."
"Jim? What happened here tonight? What is this?"
Judge Harlow crossed his arms over his chest and rested himself against the car as he nodded toward the top of the hill. "Look at them up there, Cathy. Look how she smiles, look how she laughs. She's happy, Cathy. Truly, genuinely happy. And the truth is, after I came to bed last night, I didn't feel good about myself. And--and I stood there and I listened to her speak to me and I looked at her face and I realized that you're right. She is an adult. And I should--I should be helping her grow, not stunting it. And I don't want her to resent me. And, I mean--look at him, Cathy. It's not like he's really a bad guy. And he enjoys her company and he keeps a watchful eye on her. It just--it reminds me of us. You and me. And I don't want to treat them the way your father treated us."
"Oh, Jim," his wife whispered as she slid her hand into his and rested her head on his shoulder. "How I do love you so."
"Am I doing the right thing here, Cathy? Allowing this to happen? I mean, people in town are going to--"
"Why care what the people around town think? Bessie doesn't care. Sweetheart, in this day and age, with things being the way they are, nobody is thinking twice about it. Nobody outside of your cronies and their families, anyway, and even then it's none of their business. And so what if he won't be able to give her quite the life that she's accustomed to? If you think about it, what has she ever really asked for in life? To see a picture or two or to swim in the river with her cousin? She's not like these other...princesses in our circle, who demand that their daddies shower them with jewels and designer perfume. Her hands got as dirty as ours at four in the morning, collecting eggs and picking beans. It was good for her, I think. It taught her to respect hard work and it taught her the value of money--and how to learn to be happy without it. You raised her well, Jim. You did a fabulous job. And now she sees the good in a man that others probably never stopped to think twice of--and he is absolutely wonderful to her. He's respectful and he's considerate and he makes her happy. And he doesn't have to earn a three-figure salary to do it. That is happiness, Jim. That is bliss."
"But is it reality? The reality is, she'll have the rest of the summer before she's gone. He'll be here, doing God knows what. And...and if she did come home and marry him, well...well, he'll be thirty and that's enough to make my stomach upset. But more importantly, the struggle will become real. No more blissful days filled with no worries and no cares, no more love letters, no more--anything. All there will be is the reality of the struggle. The ugly side of life. And I don't want that for her."
"It's only ugly if you make it ugly, and it's only a struggle if you make it a struggle. And we don't know what the next four years is going to hold. For all we know, he could become a successful business owner or something and become richer than you. We just don't know. But we have to allow Bessie to make her own decisions and see it through. This is her relationship. And she's got more going on between those pretty little ears than you might think."
Judge Harlow sighed and removed his hand from Catherine's, opting to slide his arm around her shoulders and hug her close. "Why are you always right all the time?"
"Because the woman is always right," she whispered playfully.
"Don't say that too loud," he teased back. "I don't want anyone to overhear and know that the judge doesn't wear the pants in his household."
Catherine looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, and muttered, "Funny. You always seem to enjoy not wearing the pants in the household."
The judge's cheeks turned red and he chuckled at his wife as he leaned down and muttered in her ear. "Does that mean I'm gonna get lucky after this date?"
"If you behave yourself tonight, we'll see."
Feeling like a million bucks, Judge Harlow led his beautiful wife toward an open bench to get comfortable in time for the picture to start.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Zac had eaten enough popcorn to make him sick.
But as long as Bessie kept shoving it in his mouth, he was going to keep eating it. At this point, he didn't think she even realized she was doing it anymore. But he was so completely at her mercy now that if she wanted to shove it in fistfuls down his throat, he would have let her do it with a smile on his face.
"So what dreaded picture do you have me suffering through?" He teased, stalling for a break from the popcorn.
Her face fell. "It's not...it's not that bad..."
"Come on," he said gently. "You know what I mean. I was...I was only joshing you, Bess."
"I know. But it's my favorite picture..."
"Then it's my favorite picture," he grinned.
A shy smile crept across her face. "It can't be your favorite picture, you haven't even seen it yet."
"I love everything you love. Doesn't matter."
"Even Scout?" She asked hopefully.
His nostrils flared and his lip curled up. "Even the damn dog," he muttered through his teeth.
Bessie giggled with delight. "Oh, I knew it! I just knew you didn't hate him!"
"What are we seeing?" He asked again, attempting to change the subject.
Her eyes glittered with enthusiasm. "It's called No Man of Her Own--"
"Oh, lovely, we're on a splendid track already," he said sarcastically.
Bessie scowled at him. "Don't be rude! I'll break up with you over a Carole Lombard picture."
Furrowing his brow, Zac leaned over, close to her face, and looked her in the eye. "I don't play the 'I'll break up with you, if' game. If you threaten to break up with me again, I will cut my hair."
The blood drained from Bessie's face and her jaw dropped in horrified shock. Zac grinned in triumph at the reaction he had been going for. "You wouldn't..."
"Oh, I absolutely would," he said earnestly. "Why, in vaudeville, my hair was so short, you could practically see my scalp. It's why hardly anybody recognizes me now."
"Zac, you can't joke about a thing like that," she whispered.
"Don't threaten to break up with me anymore."
"Okay," she said, nodding slowly. It was adorable how seriously she took the current state of his hair. He couldn't deny that it flattered him a little bit, too.
Smiling, he kissed her forehead and brushed his nose against hers. "Now, about this picture..."
"Oh, yes!" She said, her enthusiasm returning. "Carole Lombard is a small-town librarian and Clark Gable is a gambler who hides out in her town. They fall for each other, but she doesn't learn about his cheating ways until after they're married. And then he goes to prison and she finds out she's pregnant and then he comes back and then they both live happily ever after."
"Well, I guess there's no point in watching it now, since you told me the ending. Wanna hide behind a tree and neck for the rest of the night?"
"Zac!" She scolded. "Now I've had just about enough of your snide remarks--"
"Relax," he chuckled, amused with her as he searched her face. "I'm just joshing with you, that's all. I know you're excited to see this picture and I'm gonna sit here and watch it with you. I promise. And I won't say a word. Double promise."
"Oh," she replied sheepishly, her face falling. "Well. I guess I still have to learn when you're joshing and when you're not, huh?"
"You'll get there. You should probably turn around now, the sun's going down and I think they're going to start soon."
"Thank you for bringing me tonight," she said quietly. "Thank you for speaking to my father and for the flowers and for watching with me. I know how much you...you know, hate talking pictures and such. But it means a lot to me that you're willing to give them a second chance."
"I'll do anything for you, sweet girl," he whispered. "Anything in the world."
Smiling, she stole a quick kiss and she turned around, moving the popcorn from between them and settling herself comfortably against his chest. This, right here, was what heaven felt like.
It was only a mere ten minutes or so into the picture when Zac knew he'd lost Bessie. He'd lost her to Clark Gable, the only man at the moment whose neck he couldn't get his hands around. But that was okay, because Clark Gable wasn't holding her close to him and he wasn't eating popcorn out of her hand. He was busy pursuing Carole Lombard, the feisty, blonde librarian, and Zac couldn't help but silently cheer him on. In spite of himself, he found himself following along with the story.
As she sat between his legs, wrapped up in his arms, her body resting comfortably against his chest as if they'd sat like that for years, Zac could hardly pay attention to the picture. He found himself in and out of focus on it, instead, finding himself more mesmerized by the way Bessie was so wrapped up in it, that he couldn't help the words that came out of his mouth. His heart was full, and he didn't know if he was feeling the emotion from the picture or the romance that was created from sitting in the dark under the stars, but he was compelled to breathe quietly into her ear, "Bessie. I have fallen so helplessly for you. Day after day, moment after moment, I only grow more and more helpless."
He let his nose and his forehead rest blissfully against the side of her head as she continued to watch the picture. She was so entrapped at this point that there was no rescuing her until the picture was over.
Even still, as he lifted his head to watch her eyes as they glittered against the light of the projected film, a quiet sigh escaped his chest at how beautiful and content she was. He couldn't help himself once more as he whispered, "I love you, Bessie. Did you know that?"
Suddenly, she giggled along with a chorus of gigglers around them at something that had happened on the film. Her response to him was yet another mindless kernel of popcorn, fed to him over her shoulder. She hadn't heard a single word he'd said, but that was okay. This wasn't the time or place to tell her how he felt, anyway. Grinning, now amused, he chewed the popcorn between his teeth and tightened his arms around his girl and gladly received all the popcorn she wanted to feed him as he allowed himself to get lost in the picture with her.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Standing underneath the light that shone outside the public restroom, Bessie stood and patiently waited for Zac to emerge. She was beginning to regret her dinner of buttered popcorn and grape soda pop, but then she remembered how good they tasted and she couldn't help but smile to herself. It had been the perfect night--her favorite picture, her favorite food, her favorite drink, and her favorite man. She hated that they had to start back to the car now, where her father waited to drive them home, but the time she'd spent with Zac tonight had made it all worth it.
Her stomach turned ill flip flops as seven or eight boys she recognized approached her. She wasn't sure where they had come from, but she hoped that they ignored her and left quickly. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. These were football players, both high school and college--Billy Connors's friends. Bessie's heart began to pound.
"Hi, Bessie," one of them, the biggest one, smiled at her. "You out here all alone?"
"No," she retorted, lifting her chin high. "I'm waiting for my beau. He'll be along any moment now."
The big one smiled, and glanced around at his buddies, who flanked him, as they closed in on her a little closer. "It ain't proper for a lady to be out at night alone, don't you know?"
"I told you," she replied, struggling to keep her confidence. "I'm not alone. My beau is right inside the restroom, there, and now you boys are here. How could I possibly be alone, now?"
"You have a point," he smirked. "Say, uh, don't you want to know how Billy is doing? Since he was so savagely attacked on your date?"
She cleared her throat and breathed a desperate, silent breath in through her nose. "I get updates on his condition, whether they're warranted or not."
"He says you haven't visited him. He's been so lonely, all bedridden and in pain."
"Billy and I hardly knew each other before that night. There's no reason he should care about what I'm doing at all."
"Well, he liked you, Bessie," the big guy replied, his voice full of sickening sorrow. "He liked you a lot. He was real disappointed by the way things turned out."
"Yeah? Well. He sure had a funny way of showing it."
"Hey," Zac's voice finally rang out, relief washing over Bessie's body as his arm slid around her shoulders. He smiled confidently at the group that had surrounded her. "How's it going, fellas? There a problem here or something?"
The guys all glanced at each other, each one failing to hide their smirks. "Yeah," the spokesman finally said. "Yeah, there is a problem." Then he turned to a guy beside him. "Get her out of here, boys. Dames don't need to see this."
Bessie's blood turned cold and her body shook with fear. "No," her quiet voice said firmly as two of them took her by the hands and then gripped her by the arms. "No. Get your hands off me!"
"HEY!" Zac barked. "Take your hands off of her!"
"That sounds exactly like what Billy said he said to you the night you stole his dame away from him," the spokesman sneered at him.
Several feet away, held tight by two high school boys who were a class underneath her, Bessie watched two of the bigger college boys take hold of Zac, holding his arms behind his back as they locked their arms around his elbows tightly, rendering him immobile, no matter how hard he tried to get out of it. "You let go of me right now," he sneered through his teeth, "or I swear to God you'll live to regret this, just like that punk, Billy, did."
"Aww," the biggest one patronized, bringing his face close to Zac's. "You really think you can take seven of us, gypsy? Cause you sure don't seem up to it right now."
"Why don't you let me go and fight me man-to-man? Leave here with a little bit of dignity."
"NO!" Bessie called loudly. "Leave him alone!"
"Shut her up!" The big guy called over his shoulder. Then he turned his attention back to Zac. "This is for Billy."
And then, to Bessie's absolute horror, she watched him punch Zac in the stomach, and then twice in the face before stepping out of the way to let another guy have at him. She watched his body struggle to stay upright and his head began to hang from the impact.
"NO!" She screamed, violently writhing her body out of the high school boys' grips. "STOP IT, YOU'RE HURTING HIM!"
"Hey," one of the high school boys said, annoyed, as he tried to keep ahold of her. "Hey, keep her still."
"I'm trying," the other one complained. "But she's so damn squirmy."
Finally, Bessie found success and managed to break free, making a mad dash straight for Zac, and stepped in the middle as one of the college guys had his fist ready for another hit. She threw her body against Zac and wrapped her arms around his neck, the college guys still holding him up, knowing that they wouldn't dare take another liberty with him as long as she was in the way. "Leave him alone!" She sobbed.
"What the hell, I said keep her away!" The big one barked at the high school boys.
Turning her head away from Zac, Bessie managed a scream at the top of her lungs, "DADDY!"
"Daddy?" One of the guys holding Zac said. "Man, is her daddy here?"
"I never saw him," another one remarked.
"Shit, here comes the judge!" Another one hissed. "And he's got a deputy!"
The college boys that had ahold of Zac let him go and he tumbled to the ground, taking Bessie with him. He wasn't unconscious, but he winced in pain and was already struggling to stand. "I'll kill them," he spat, sitting up and clutching his stomach. "I'll kill them all. Did they hurt you?"
"No," she shook her head. "No, but you're bleeding--"
"There's no sense in any of you trying to run, so you can just stay right where you are," her father's voice sternly rang out. "I already have all your names, I watched the whole thing from across the parking lot. I only wish I'd gotten here in time to keep it from escalating. No matter, though. I watched you put your hands on my daughter, I watched you assault an innocent man, and not only are you having charges pressed against each one of you, but you also have a ton of witnesses to corroborate what happened here. Stupid move, boys. Real stupid move."
Bessie had never been so glad to see her father in her entire life. "Daddy," she squeaked as she stood and tried to help Zac up off the pavement. "Daddy, they hurt him."
"I know," he said solemnly. "I saw."
"He didn't do anything, Daddy. He didn't touch any of them."
"I know."
"I'm okay," Zac's voice groaned from behind them. "Really, I'm--they punch like girls, the lot of them. I'm fine, I've taken worse."
Except that he wasn't. His eye was swollen and blood came from his cheekbone, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Bessie could already see the colors staring to trail along his face between the wounds. His beautiful, perfect face...
She sniffed as the tears welled up again and she hugged him once more, unable to help herself. "Oh, Zac. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."
"Come on, you two," her father said. "Head on over to the car, I sent your mother for a couple of wet towels. I'll meet you over there, I just have to wait on a couple more cars to show up to escort these fine lads to the station."
Zac was silent as they made their way to the car, Bessie's arm hooked tightly around his. His head hung low while his hair hid his face as people stopped to stare at them as they passed. The entire place had witnessed the attack, it seemed, and the ones who didn't had already caught wind of the aftermath.
As soon as they'd made it to the car, her mother met them with wet rags. "Burt had a couple of clean ones," she said breathlessly as she handed them to Bessie. "This should take care of him until we can get him home."
Grateful, Bessie took the rags from her mother and intended to dab the blood off of Zac's face with it. To her surprise, however, he dodged her advance and snatched the rag out of her hand. "I can do it," he spat. "I'm not helpless."
"Nobody said you were," Bessie replied carefully, trying not to let him hurt her feelings. "I'm only trying to help."
"I don't need help. I can do it myself."
Bessie glanced at her mother and her mother simply nodded at her. She wasn't sure what that meant, but she took it to mean that it was okay to let Zac take the reins for now and Bessie opted to keep quiet. It was apparent that Zac wanted nothing to do with anything she had to offer him at the moment and it wouldn't have surprised her if he opted to walk himself home.
She WAS surprised, however, that he got in the car and allowed her father to drive him. Instead of sitting in the front seat, as he had the first time, he now sat in the back with Bessie, resting his head against the back of the seat and staring aimlessly out the window as he held the rag to his face. His eye was only swelling more and more and Bessie had never felt so powerless in her life.
Her father slowed the car to a stop next to the woods where the gypsy camp was located and Zac wasted no time reaching for the door. "Zac," she whispered.
"Thank you, sir," he said to her father as he opened the car door. "Thank you for, um--for everything."
"You're welcome," her father replied solemnly as Zac stepped out of the car.
"Zac," she whispered again as she scooted hastily across the seat and looked out the open door.
"Goodnight, sweet girl," he said to her quietly. "Sweet dreams." And then he shut the door on her.
Bessie sniffed her tears back as her father began to drive away. "Daddy," she squeaked.
"Everything is all right," he said gently. "His pride got hurt tonight more than his face did."
"What they did wasn't fair."
"I know."
"Billy only got what was coming to him. Zac didn't deserve it."
"I know."
"Daddy?" She whispered.
"Yes, dear?"
"They said he took me away from Billy. But he never took me away from Billy. He didn't have to, I was already his. I think--I think they beat him up because--" She swallowed hard, the tears now rolling down her cheeks. "Daddy, he loves me."
The rest of the ride home was spent in silence.