The possibility that in just mere moments, he could learn the truth has Jesse more nervous than he's been in all of his life. Although, his mind does warn him that maybe there's probably no cause to be. Quite possibly, whatever crazy plan that Clive has hatched up, this time, will blow up in their faces the way it does 95 percent of the time.

A huge part of him would prefer to ignore the problem until it goes away. Something tells him that it won't be that easy. Tullisa is his neighbor, after all, and will be for the foreseeable future. It's going to be hard to pretend, for such a long time, that she no longer exists. Plus, other than his conviction that she deserves better than the way he's already treated her, his years of friendship with Clive has taught him one thing. It's better to face the fire head on than to delay. Otherwise it will grow quickly out of hand.

Just rip the band aid off.

He hadn't ripped anything off by ignoring Tullisa for the better part of the day. As a matter of fact, after her reaction to him tonight, he might have made everything worse. All she'd done was pause for about half a second before walking off with another man.

Jesse refuses to really analyze the way that last part makes him feel. The twisting in his gut, he ascribes to who Tullisa's date is rather than the fact that she is going out with someone at all. He's certain that if it were any other man, her going out on a date wouldn't bother him the slightest bit. What truly guts him is the way that she had basically acted as if she hadn't seen him standing there.

Since the fall of his marriage or maybe even long before then -- something else he refuses to acknowledge -- he's always associated Tullisa with happiness. She radiates warmth. It's in her shining eyes and beautiful smile. And now that he thinks about it, he's also certain that she has a special look reserved especially for him.

Again, Jesse feels his insides twist but he doesn't try to dwell on it for a second longer. To prove to himself that seeing Tullisa with Reed, or any other man for that matter, is no concern of his, he shoves the sensation aside by deliberately filling his mind with images of his wife. Immediately, the fluttering in the pit of his stomach sours.

He speed walks to his living room, grabs his baseball cap, on the way out, from the mantle where he'd placed it earlier and picks his keys off the hook beside the door. Not missing a step, he yanks the door open and races to his truck lest the suspicion and guilt that he'd probably deflowered Tullisa in a drunken haze does away with his courage.

Honestly, he's ready to get this over with and get back to regular programming -- a life without any unnecessary complications.

He hops into his truck and speeds out of the driveway with one destination in mind. The show will start promptly at eight. Everyone knows that Liza-Beth waits for no one. That gives him a little over half an hour to do the deed as quickly and painlessly as possible and make it back home to brood all by his lonesome self before the festivities can begin.

The area referred to as Town Square is nothing extravagant like what soneone might find in the larger towns or cities but the people of Fresh Water are proud of their own. Main street is always kept neat and tidy and the rainbow painted shops and boutiques lining the sidewalk add a pop of color making, it seem like all things are always bright and beautiful in these parts.

One of the things Jesse used to like to do was sit in the gazebo across the street and look at the people stroll about their daily business. He's been to the city. Life moves a lot slower in Fresh Water. No one is ever truly too busy or in a hurry to go anywhere or get anything done. He used to have an appreciation for the disparity until his world had come crashing down and he needed something other than his thoughts and reality to occupy his mind. While he won't begrudge anyone for being happy and having that happiness reflected in the things they own, he is growing weary of the pep and hopefulness always fluttering around in the air.

Jesse parks his truck when he spots Clive manning a barbecue grill at his usual spot on the lawn beneath the large sycamore tree with his father stumbling and talking his ear off.

Jesse shakes his head. He has no idea how Clive does it. No matter what people say about him or the more uppity folks look down their noses at him, his best friend is a saint. To put his own need for success behind just so he can take care of his alcoholic father proves how selfless Clive is.

The two of them are quite the odd pair and their friendship far more unusual. He is the boy who had grown up in a stable home with two loving -- albeit strict as the bible -- parents. Whereas, after his mother had passed away at an early age, Clive's home situation had deteriorated to the point of no return.

In pensive moments like these, Jesse truly wonders if he has any right to complain about anything. He always thinks that maybe he should show greater gratitude for the things which have worked out in his life.

Not wanting to lose his drive by delving too deep into how unfair the universe is, he shuts off the engine and hops out of the truck. He takes a deep breath to bolster his nerves even if he's not certain whether he's more worried about Clive's plan or facing Tullisa. Deciding that both might be equally disastrous, Jesse crosses between the sluggish traffic while greeting a few neighbors along the way. Anything less and news will probably reach all the way to Florida where his parents are in short order -- to fill them in on his lack of manners.

His eyes stray from Clive only to land on his intended target sitting at one of the tables situated on the sidewalk outside of Toast -- the town's premiere and only fancy restaurant where a guy can take a girl on a proper date.

Jesse clears his throat, averts his eyes and swallows down whatever emotions are broiling low in his gut, along with the urge to walk across to the two of them; and demand to know exactly what she's doing here with shoemaker.

Instead, he shoulders his way through the small crowd standing in front of the grill to make his way to Clive.

"Hey, Mr. Kincaid," he calls to Clive's father first.

"Dad, I've told you to sit down or you're gonna get yourself burned," Clive warns.

"Got your hands full?" Jesse observes.

He fits his disapproving gaze on the older Kincaid but walks around the grill to gently direct him to an empty bench behind Clive.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Jesse suggests.

The man slurs something that he is certain has an expletive and the word patronize in it but it's enough for Jesse to surmise the meaning. He leaves the grumpy old man alone after ordering him, "you, stay here," and walks back to Clive.

"Thanks," his friend tells him. With his usual goofy grin in place, he says, "I don't know why he listens to you and not me when I'm the one ensuring that he eats three meals a day. You're probably the son he wishes he had."

"Nah," Jesse tells him. "You're your dad's hero. He's probably just too drunk right now to know it. So what's this plan of yours? It had better be good, Clive. And nothing that involves me geting me punched in the you know where."

In a conspiratorial manner, Clive leans in closer and says, "so I've got a plan A and a plan B if that doesn't work out."

He sets down his basting brush, rolls up his sleeve and presents his forearm to Jesse.

The expectancy on his face confuses Jesse even more than the gesture. With his eyebrows stitched together in a deep scowl, he asks, "what am I looking at?"

The dim light from the streetlights illuminate the night just enough to for him to make out a mark on his best friend's arm. A mark that Jesse knows has never been there before.

"It's a hickey," Clive announces.

Unsure of what to say, Jesse blinks down at Clive's arm then up at his face.

"And this is part of your plan?" Jesse questions with a measure of uncertainty in his voice.

When Clive nods his head at him he asks, "well, what are you going to do with it?"

He listens intently, nodding his head as Clive explains first plan A and then the back of plan should this really terribly ridiculous one doesn't work.

It takes a lot for Jesse not to slap him at the back of his head like Lily often does but he refrains.

"How is it that we ended up being best friends again?" he wonders out loud.

"That, my friend is an easy question," Clive tells him. "I saved you from having your ass handed to you by Billy Snider."

"That was in kindergarten and you turned right around and threatened me into sharing my lunch with you," Jesse counters.

"Mmm...that's all semantics," Clive tells him with a thoughtful scowl. "I'd say that I persuaded you to be generous to the boy who'd just saved your life and whose daddy had been too hung over to remember to pack his lunch."

"If by semantics you mean raising your fists at me..." Jesse mumbles.

"Hey, it worked out, right?"

Clive chuckles and gives Jesse a brotherly jab to the rib with his elbow. "So are we doing this?" he asks.

Only because he's so desperate and because somewhere at the back of his mind is the desire to crash Tullisa's date, Jesse gives Clive the go ahead.

In the meanwhile, he steps up to the grill to watch the disaster as it unfolds even if he suspects that a punch to the balls might well be in his imminent future.