Krusha
Since I really wanted to hold on to that Prairie Sky revisited scene, I had tried it again by introducing Big Jerry’s wife Krusha. This version was a little sillier. I stole the line “a stepladder and a lot of determination” from Canadian comedian Ryan George. I also found it funny that Ethan would think Krusha and Big Jerry were incompabitle size wise…and let he’s a good foot or so taller than Allison. My other favorite line I regretted losing here was Ethan being secretly thrilled that Big Jerry described him as “scary looking.” So while there was a lot I liked here, it really just had no place and ended up on the cutting room floor.
After a quick dinner, Ethan headed back over to Big Jerry’s hoping to catch Allison before he left town tomorrow morning. He was scheduled to be in Des Moines tomorrow, so couldn’t stick around much longer. He didn’t have a lot of time to give his crazy idea a try.
Ethan peeked through the window, and he spotted a mountain of a man holding down the fort behind the counter. The guy was almost as wide as he was tall, sporting an out-of-control beard and massive hairy forearms that looked like they belonged to a grizzly bear. Ethan stared for a second, this man would make an absolutely incredible background extra for the Scottish clan war.. Big Jerry himself, Ethan assumed. It was a good name.
A car pulled up behind him. He turned around just in time to see Allison getting out, “Bard? That you?
Inside the store, Big Jerry had taken notice of Allison and Ethan. He came outside to make sure everything was okay. Ethan walked over to him, “You ever think about getting into acting, Big Guy?”
Jerry responded, “Yeah! All the time!”
Allison was at his side, “Jerry, this is Ethan Blackwood.”
Jerry looked down at Ethan, which Ethan had to admit was a bit of a new experience for him, “Like the author?”
Ethan said, “Very much like the author. Are you a fan?”
Jerry considered, “No. My wife is though. Can I get an autograph for her?”
“Sure, but in exchange for the autograph, I need a few minutes to talk to Allison?” Jerry agreed, so Ethan poked around in his backseat, emerging with a copy of Where the Heather Blooms and his favorite silver marker. “What’s your wife’s name?”
“Most people just call her Krusha.”
Ethan considered that for a second, “With an A?”
Jerry nodded, “And a K.”
Ethan signed the book, and Jerry headed back into the store.
****
As they made their way past the historical fiction aisle, a woman stepped out from behind a display of local poetry to intercept them. She was Black, in her late thirties, with a sharp, commanding presence and dark eyes that looked like they could transition from fiercely loving to absolutely deadly in a fraction of a second. She was also remarkably petite, noticeably shorter than even Allison.
“Mister Blackwood?” she asked, her voice crisp.
Ethan stopped, offering his warmest, most self-deprecating author smile. “Hi. Were you here at the signing event last month? I’m so sorry, I don’t think I remember meeting you.”
“Not exactly,” she said, her tone cautious, measuring him up. “My name is Krusha.”
The name clicked instantly in Ethan’s brain, the puzzle pieces snapping into place. “Big Jerry’s wife! Right, of course. Did you get the box of books I sent over? I’m so sorry I didn’t get to bring them by myself or personalize them for you. I was... well, I was kind of between assistants at the exact moment, and I had a hard deadline to get down to Des Moines.”
As Ethan spoke, his eyes involuntarily tracked her height, his writer's brain immediately wandering into the logistics of how a marriage between a literal giant like Big Jerry and a woman this tiny could possibly function. He had to imagine a stepladder, a lot of patience, and an immense amount of determination...
Allison, seemingly possessing a psychic radar for his most inappropriate thoughts, delivered a swift, brutal elbow directly into his ribs.
Ethan choked back a grunt, clearing his throat quickly.
Krusha looked between the two of them, her brow furrowing slightly. “I got the books. But to be honest, I don’t think I understand why you sent them in the first place.”
“Because your husband told me you were a fan,” Ethan said simply, as if that entirely settled the ledger of the universe.
Krusha let out a soft, surprised breath, studying his face. The guarded edge in her shoulders dropped just a fraction. “You aren’t quite what Jerry described. He told me you were big, burly, and kind of scary-looking.”
A distinct swell of masculine pride warmed Ethan’s chest. He puffed his shoulders out slightly. “Big Jerry called me scary-looking?”
Allison chimed in, her tone entirely deadpan. “He’s significantly scarier when he’s swinging a claymore around. Fortunately for safety of the poetry aisle, he left it back in the trunk of the car.”
A small, genuinely amused smile finally cracked Krusha’s guarded expression. “Jerry also told me you stole Allison right out from under us.”
Ethan took a long, quiet moment to consider his answer. He didn't look at Allison, but his voice dropped into a tone that was completely devoid of his usual deflection or charm. “I did,” he said honestly, his eyes locked onto Krusha’s. “And to be perfectly blunt, I’ve never regretted it for a single second.”
Krusha seemed genuinely taken aback by the raw honesty of his answer. She stared at him for a beat, and then she burst into a warm, ringing laugh. “Well. That is definitely not what I was expecting a famous Scottish author to say.”
“That makes sense since I’m actually from Ohio. Yellow Falls.”
The ice thoroughly broken, they exchanged a few minutes of comfortable, easy small talk before parting ways on incredibly warm terms. Krusha even extended an open dinner invitation for the next time they passed through town so Ethan could actually personalize her collection.