Chapter 15

Kerri wasn't sure whether prostitutes were supposed to be on time or fashionably late. She glanced at the clock in the lobby: 7:05 pm. Resignedly, she walked across the lobby and entered the elevator. As the doors closed, she checked the slip of paper in her purse again and pushed the correct floor. She rode in silence, there being no enthusiasm in either her posture or expression. She wore a simple floral print dress which showed lots of leg without being tasteless. Exiting, she forced one foot in front of the other until, at last, she stood outside the correct door. Starting once, hesitating, then finally mustering the determination, she rapped timidly three times.

A man's deep voice answered.

'Yes?"

To speak his name still made her heart ache.

"Kyle, sent me," she said, not really sure she had been heard.

The door opened slowly to reveal a man perhaps twenty years her senior, trim and handsome in a rugged sort of way, graying around the temples. His face and arms were weathered. The eyes were bright but seemed to reflect a life of hardship and pain. The belt around his fit waist was wide, the buckle large with etchings of Native American symbols. His large mustache reminded her of town Marshals in western movies.

"Well," he said smiling kindly, "they grow 'em kind of short here don't they? Pretty though. Real pretty. Come on in."

She stepped into the room tentatively and shuddered slightly when she heard the door close behind her. The room was like a thousand others, bed, table chair and bath. An opened newspaper lay on the table, a suitcase on the floor of the open closet.

"Name's Jake," he said and smiled.

"Hello Jake," she answered wondering whether she should use her right name, or any name at all.

"Drink?" he asked motioning to a bottle on the bathroom counter which she had not noticed.

She toyed with the idea. Maybe a drink or two would help get her through this first time, but she also remembered how vulnerable that could make her.

"No thanks, but you go ahead."

"Nope," he said, "it just doesn't seem to do for me what it used to."

They stood facing each other. Her hands hung awkwardly at her side. She thought he looked expectant.

So this is it, she thought, a little chit chat, get drunk if you want and spread your legs. Slowly she reached behind her to unhook her dress.

"You're sort of new at this, aren't you?" he said kindly.

"Is it really that evident?"

"Well, you seem nervous and you were about to break the cardinal rule of your profession."

"Oh?" she replied

"Always discuss business before you get down to business."

"I don't..."

"Whoa," he said, his eyes widening a bit as he interrupted. "This is your first time as a pro, isn't it?"

Her eyes dropped as she nodded.

"Here. Sit," he said motioning to the bed while he pulled the chair around backward and seated himself.

"Missy, I can tell you're no teenager, but you're still young and beautiful. You have a lot of life ahead of you. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

She smiled ruefully.

"Maybe it's what I was meant to be."

"We're all meant to be what we make of ourselves."

"I've made a lot of mistakes, Jake. A lot of them I can't take back."

"Oh, so you're the only one who's ever made mistakes?"

"Far too many and ones for which I can never be forgiven."

"Missy, I've seen a few sunrises and sunsets in my time. My experience has been that the hardest person to get to forgive you, is yourself. "

"Who are you Jake? You don't look like a computer person."

"Oh, the convention? Naw, I'm a cattle rancher. Got a small spread out in Wyoming."

"Then?"

"What am I doing here? I've come to see my son. He performs with the symphony orchestra. Got a concert tomorrow. I'm gonna see him play, then see if the two of us can talk. You see, a few years ago, when my wife died I let my grief stand in the way of my relationship with my son. I sort of withdrew, cut myself off from him. Didn't realize it at the time. I'd always wanted him to take over the place and be a rancher too, but I drove him away. So, he left and came East. Made a life for himself here now. Music. I let him go, wouldn't visit him. Pride I guess."

"And you've come to ask him to come back to Wyoming?"

"Oh no. He's got a life here now. Of course nothing would make me happier than to see him take up where I leave off, but I just want to make things right between us. If I've learned anything at all, it's that money, land, they don't mean a damn. It's the people in your life and what you carry in here," he said tapping his chest over his heart.