Different Circumstances: Part 5A of ? by Marzee Doats
Author's Note: One thing. I'm obsessed with the gas supply on Jericho. Maybe it's because I drive 40 miles round trip to work, and fill up my car at least once a week, but I just don't understand why these people didn't start worrying about gas a lot earlier than they did. So now, Jake worries.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday, October 4, two weeks after the bombs
"Jake Green!" Stanley greeted, overly loudly. "What are you doin' here in the middle of the night?"
Mary Bailey snorted. "It stopped being night hours ago, Stanley," she told him, pointing to a high window through which the early morning light streamed in. She smiled at Jake. "Coffee?"
"Please," Jake yawned. He slid onto a barstool next to Mimi Clark, Stanley's IRS agent, whom he'd finally met the day before. "Heather," he started, but everything else he said was incomprehensible, swallowed up in another yawn.
"Didn't quite catch any of that," Stanley informed Jake, rolling his eyes. "What time is it, anyway?"
"Six-thirty," Jake sighed, checking his watch. "Quarter to, now."
Stanley laughed, shaking his head. "What the hell are you even doing awake? I've never see you up this early in my life, unless you just didn't go to bed the night before." Stanley tapped Mimi on the arm. "In high school, I used to show up at his house twenty minutes before the first bell, and his mom would send me up to drag him outta bed," he told her, chuckling. Stanley glanced at Jake. "You did go to bed last night?"
Jake nodded. "School's back in session today," he explained. "Heather needed to be there at six-thirty, so he-oh-eh-owh-em-ha," Jake yawned yet again.
"Stop yawning!" Mimi demanded. "You're gonna make me start."
"Sorry," Jake apologized, shaking his head. "Haven't gotten a whole lot of sleep lately," he admitted.
"So, Heather needed to be at school early, and you came in with her?" Stanley asked, grinning knowingly at Jake. "Now, that's true love."
"Really only have one car right now," Jake reminded, "And, it's down to a third of a tank," he added, rubbing his eyes. "Never thought it'd be a problem to live eight miles out of town."
"You've got two trucks," Stanley argued. "And, what about your farm fuel tank?" he asked.
"Heather's car is better on gas than the trucks," he shrugged. "And our tank had about seven gallons in it when I siphoned it out three days ago," Jake explained, stretching his hands above his head. "Who knows when it was last filled," he sighed. "Heather doesn't think it's ever been filled since she's lived there, and she's probably right. We don't have farm equipment," he reminded. "Gramps sold everything off after he leased out the land."
"Heather's the girl in the cast?" Mimi asked. "From yesterday at town hall? The one who kissed you good-bye?"
"That's her," Jake agreed, yawning. "Sorry," he muttered automatically. Mimi had come into the sheriff's station the day before to quiz Bill or Jimmy on the state of the world, and whether or not they had any news that wasn't presently circulating at Bailey's. Both deputies had been out however, and it had fallen to Jake, reluctantly lending the hand he'd promised to, to tell her that there was nothing new to report. Heather had come out of the restroom while Jake was speaking with Mimi, and she had kissed him goodbye, promising to come back for him in a few hours. "She teaches third grade."
Mary returned with cups and the promised coffee, pouring for Jake. "You all want some?" she asked.
Stanley nodded. "Make mine an Irish," Mimi requested. "Oh, and Mary, do you have another deck of cards?" She looked at Jake. "We're playing war, if you want in."
"War?" he laughed, agreeing with a shrug. "Why not? I don't have anything else to do." Jake took a sip of coffee, sighing gratefully. "Thanks, Mary. This is just what I needed."
"No problem," she returned, adding a shot of whiskey to Mimi's cup. "I'll see what I can find for cards," Mary added, turning away.
"No coffee at home, huh?" Stanley observed. He nudged Mimi with his shoulder to get her attention. "Heather's PG," he told her, "And, she's a caffeine fiend. Better not to tempt her."
"PG?" Mimi chuckled, rolling her eyes at Stanley. 'Who are you, my great-aunt Ruth? The word's 'pregnant'." She glanced at Jake. "That is what he's saying, right?"
"Yeah," Jake confirmed, sipping his coffee. "I think he's trying to be discreet." He peered around Mimi at Stanley, shaking his head. "She's gonna kill you," he predicted. "Heather told you she doesn't want to tell a lotta people yet."
"It's just Mimi," Stanley argued. "She doesn't know anyone in town to tell."
"That's true," Mimi agreed, appreciating the aroma of her coffee for a second before taking a sip. "I just know you guys, Mary, the deputies, grocery store lady," she listed. "You know, she said you've been out of town, workin' for the CIA, for the last seven, eight months. How's that work?" Mimi asked, eyeing Jake speculatively.
"Gracie Leigh told you I work for the CIA?" Jake laughed, throwing his head back. "That's funny. I'm not CIA, I swear. That's too crazy, even for me," he assured her. "I work for the DEA."
"Here you go," Mary announced, dropping another deck of cards on the bar. This set was smaller than the red and blue decks that Mimi and Stanley were using, and it had the Greyhound bus line logo on the back. "All I could find," she told them. "Think somebody left 'em here once when their bus broke down in town for a few hours."
"Thanks," Mimi murmured, already sorting the cards that she and Stanley had been playing with into piles. "So, Drug Enforcement," she continued. "I take it you don't work in the division that goes after doctors for writing bad prescriptions?"
"Nah," Jake shrugged. "I'm usually after the drug dealer, drug kingpin, drug lab."
"And, that's why you've been out of town all year?" Mimi quizzed.
"Pretty much," Jake agreed, laughing softly. He found that he liked Mimi, and although he didn't usually talk too much about his job, he also knew that his job likely didn't exist anymore. It didn't matter if he talked about it now, and he wasn't telling them anything that Heather hadn't already known for months. "I was investigating US contractors in Afghanistan and Iraq who were using their legitimate supply operations as a cover to traffic drugs onto our military bases there. Pot, amphetamines, pharmaceutical-grade narcotics, you name it. That's not all they were involved in, either."
Stanley allowed a low whistle. "Seriously?" he asked, "That's what you were doing over there?"
"That, and sweating," Jake shrugged. "I drove supply trucks in a hundred and twenty degree heat so I could get in with the right people. Got 'em too, eventually. Not that it matters anymore," he muttered. Jake looked at Mimi. "You're good at your job, aren't you?"
She nodded, emitting a husky laugh. "I'm an accountant," Mimi told Jake, "But, I've got some power." She glanced at Stanley, meaning to remind him of his debt to the federal government. "Plus, I do a good 'good cop', and a better 'bad cop'."
"Yeah, me too," Jake replied, chuckling along with her.
"So, three-handed war," Mimi announced. "High card wins, of course," she declared, handing Stanley the blue deck of cards. "If there's a tie, three cards face down, fourth card face up. Go from there," she finished, handing the Greyhound deck to Jake. "Ready, gentlemen?"
They all played their first cards, Stanley crowing over his early victory. Jake won the next hand, followed by Stanley again, and then Mimi. "So, how is it that your wife's pregnant, but you haven't been in town for the last eight months?" she asked.
"You do like to dig," Jake accused lightly, rolling his eyes. "And, just 'cause I haven't been in Jericho, doesn't mean we haven't seen each other," he answered, taking the next trick. "We were on vacation in Hawaii for two weeks in July," he admitted, caving in to the pressure of Mimi's concentrated gaze.
"Anniversary trip," Stanley added, earning Mimi's glance. "Jake always takes Heather to a beach somewhere for their anniversary. What?" he continued, catching the somewhat annoyed look his friend shot him. "I was best man at your wedding, I know when you got married." Stanley picked up the cards he'd just won, and grinned at Mimi. "Whirlwind romance," he told her. "They met in October, got engaged in January, then married in July, just down the street here," he explained, tilting his head in the direction of the church. "Hottest day of the year."
"Stanley, you gossip like a teenage girl," Jake complained, throwing down his next card.
"Well, yeah, if I've been drinking," Stanley agreed, grinning unrepentantly.
Mimi glanced between the two men, hiding her smile by taking another sip of her coffee. "That's quick. You got engaged after only three months? Planned a wedding in less than a year?"
"Six months for planning a wedding was too long," Jake complained. "We're at war," he informed Mimi, dealing out his four cards while she did the same. "And, if you find someone, and you know it's right, why wait?" he shrugged, collecting his winnings.
What Jake didn't tell Mimi was that he'd come to appreciate the part that timing had played in his relationship with Heather. He knew himself well enough to recognize that if he'd met Heather at a different time, just a few months earlier or later, things would not have been the same between them. He'd been in state of limbo, and very close to turning completely, perhaps irrevocably, cynical. He'd been ready to abandon Jericho and everyone he knew. But meeting Heather, and then his immediate and overwhelming interest in her, their connection, had stopped that. She, on the other hand, had simply been trying to find her way in Jericho, to carve out a niche for herself in the small town. Heather had needed a little bolstering, some reassurance, a friend, and he'd provided that. It was true that they had clicked right from the beginning; it was also true that they had been lucky to find one another when they did. Jake knew better than to discount any of it, and he was eternally grateful for a blown tire and his grandfather's collection of historical artifacts.
"Okay, then," Mimi acknowledged, picking up the cards she'd won. She pondered his answer for a moment, pursing her lips. She couldn't honestly say she'd ever been in a relationship that she'd considered completely 'right', though Mimi supposed she'd been witness to a few among her friends and family, and so she was willing to concede the possibility. "So, how long have you two been married?"
"Four years," Jake answered, giving into another yawn.
"Wow," Mimi murmured, her wide-eyed expression betraying her surprise. "Talk about a child bride. I mean, seriously, she's what, twenty-three, twenty-four?"
"Twenty-seven," Jake corrected. "And, she had a college degree and a teaching credential when we met, so I always figured that qualified her as an adult."
Mimi nodded. "Fair enough," she agreed, shuffling her deck so they could start a new round. "Bet she still gets carded for alcohol, though, right?"
"Not in Jericho," Jake laughed. He shuffled his own deck once, and then set it down on the bar, ready to play. "But, yeah, everywhere else in the world."
"Ready?" Mimi inquired. "Stanley?"
"Sure," he said, groaning as he flipped over his first card, a two.
"Starting strong, farm boy," Mimi teased, playing her own card, a jack. "So," she continued, looking at Jake. "How'd you propose?" She waited while he laid his card, an eight, down on the bar. "This is my 'good cop', by the way," Mimi informed him, grinning, as she picked up the cards she'd won.
"Yeah, I recognize the technique," Jake chuckled. "And, I proposed on top of a water tower at seven-thirty in the morning."
"In January," Stanley reminded, collecting the next trick.
"It was January," Jake confirmed. "Snowed a little that morning, too."
If her expression was anything to go by, Mimi didn't believe Jake. She looked back and forth between him and Stanley, waiting for one of them to crack and give the punch line, but neither did. "You're kidding, right?" she asked finally.
Jake shook his head 'no'. "That's the story I've always heard," Stanley told Mimi. "Don't remember the part about seven-thirty in the morning, though. I think Heather's trying to re-train you," Stanley joked. "Better watch out, Jake. A year from now she's gonna have you up at four am with the kid."
"On a water tower," Mimi repeated, her tone one of pure disbelief. "First thing in the morning, on a water tower," she muttered. "Don't you people know that a marriage proposal's supposed to be romantic, not something right out of Petticoat Junction?" she argued. "What'd you do next? Take her to a square dance?"
"We had breakfast with my grandfather. He made pancakes," Jake answered, chuckling at Mimi's bug-eyed expression. "Look, nobody gets it," he told her, shrugging. Hell, one of the reasons he'd answered her question was because he'd known she wouldn't understand. "But it made perfect sense to us. And, she did say 'yes'."
Mimi, still looking doubtful, played her next card. "I just don't get this town," she grumbled softly.
They played quietly for a few minutes, none of them talking except as required to further the game. Finally Jake, reaching the end of his deck, picked up his discard pile and started to shuffle. "I'm tired of war. No one ever really wins," he complained.
Stanley examined his own diminished pile of cards. "Me too," he sighed.
"We could play crazy eights instead," Mimi suggested. "Or hearts?"
"I think I'm gonna head home," Stanley countered, yawning loudly. "Probably something I should be doin'."
Mary returned with the coffee pot, shaking her head at all of them. "You're gonna stay up all night here, and then go and try to do chores at home?" she asked. "You've always been crazy, Stanley," she told him. "More coffee?" she offered.
"Please," Jake declared softly, while Mimi and Stanley both nodded in agreement. "So, Mimi, what would you be doing if you were back home in DC?" Jake asked, stretching and yawning.
Their game effectively over, Mimi had started sorting cards. "Sleepin'!" she proclaimed, shaking her head. "You know the hardest thing about sleepin' in this dump?" she asked, looking at Jake.
"What?" he replied, covering his mouth as he yawned yet again.
"The quiet!" Mimi pronounced, shaking her head. "I don't know how you stand it. It's like my brain is an echo chamber," she complained.
Jake chuckled, nodding his head understandingly. "Takes awhile to get used to, every time I come home," he admitted. "But, you do get used to it," he assured her.
She watched him closely for a few seconds. "So, you actually like living here?" she asked, waving her hand around to indicate the town outside the walls of Bailey's Tavern.
"It's as good as most other places," Jake shrugged. "It's not the beach, but at least I know what to expect here. My family's here - that's good and bad," he admitted, chuckling. "I've got friends," he continued, pointing at Stanley. "It's where Heather wants to be."
Behind them, the tavern door squeaked open, admitting Deputy Jimmy Taylor and Jake's brother, Eric. Mimi glanced at the two men, and then turned her gaze back on Jake. "Plus, everyone here thinks you're a hero," she added for him.
Jimmy, catching her last few words, laughed. "I wouldn't say that," he told Mimi.
"What?" she asked, looking over at Jimmy.
"Just don't know that Jake qualifies as a hero," Jimmy clarified. "No offense, Jake," he added, "But I could - we all could - tell you some stories."
Jake, smirking, pointed a hardly threatening finger at his friend. "Hey, watch it, Jimmy!"
Mimi looked around at the grinning gaggle of men, and decided to play along. "Let me guess. The pressure's just been too much for you," she proclaimed, her tone more than a little sarcastic.
"Wow," Jake muttered, trying not to laugh.
"I'm a people reader," Mimi declared, chuckling soundlessly and reaching for her coffee cup.
Jake nodded. "Yeah."
She studied him over the rim of her cup. "I'm betting, captain of the football team, prom king, most likely to succeed." Mimi looked around, taking in the even wider grins of the men standing around her. She laughed out loud, smiling in return. "Am I right?"
"Don't quit your day job," Jimmy advised, prompting everyone to laugh, including Mary, who had returned in time to hear Mimi's guess regarding Jake.
"Why?" Mimi asked. "What am I missing here?"
Jake pointed at Stanley. "He was captain of the football team," he told Mimi, who looked back over her shoulder at Stanley.
"And, I think he beat up the prom king," Stanley added, shaking his head.
Jake pretended to think about it for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I did," he agreed, laughing it off, though at the time it had seemed that his world was ending; the first time Emily Sullivan had dumped him, it had been for the prom king.
"Eric, you must have a million stories about your brother screwin' up, right?" Stanley asked with a knowing grin.
Eric started to smile in return, but his expression withered some under Jake's glare. "Yeah," he agreed softly, "At least that many." He turned to Mary then, catching her eye. "Could we get a coupla coffees to go, Mary?" Eric requested.
Jake watched his brother follow Mary to the other side of the bar, only taking his eyes off them when Mimi tapped him on the arm with his deck of cards.
"So, not 'most likely to succeed' either, huh?" she asked.
"Nah, 'most likely to succeed' was Caleb Pritchard, I think," he told her, sighing. "He was class president, valedictorian - gave a speech, anyway. Graduated Jericho High, left town, never came back. Probably dead now."
"Well, that's a cheery thought," Mimi complained grumpily. Both Jake and Mimi were watching Mary and Eric, and while the couple probably thought they were being discreet, their hands and obvious flirting betrayed them. Mimi caught Jake's eye. "Secrets of a small town," she murmured into his ear.
Jake's jaw clenched on him, and he didn't bother to answer Mimi, figuring she wasn't expecting one anyway. He looked away. 'Idiot!' he accused his brother silently. 'You stupid idiot!' It had been years since Jake and Eric had had anything resembling a close relationship, and Jake admittedly got along better with his sister-in-law than with his brother. He'd never really understood why April had married Eric, but he'd at least thought Eric realized how lucky he was. And, if Eric wanted to mess up his life, Jake figured he was welcome to do so, but he didn't want to know anything about it. Only now he did.
The building shook slightly, interrupting Jake's mental tirade against his brother. He glanced up in time to see the lights flicker to life, and then the juke box started to blare loudly, hurting all their ears after a nearly two weeks of relative silence. Jake slid off his stool and crossed the room, pulling the plug. He stood up, straightening, looking around the bar, checking on each person present. They all wore matching expressions of surprise and confusion, but were obviously okay.
The pay phone rang. Again, Jake was the first to react, striding across the bar to pick up the receiver. It was a recorded message, and he let it play, holding the phone so that they could all listen as the recording looped. "This is Assistant Secretary Walsh from the Department of Homeland Security," the message droned. "Do not be alarmed. If you are safe, stay where you are. Do not attempt to leave. We will be in contact again shortly. Until then, know that help is on the way."
They listened to it three times before Jake finally hung up. He looked at his brother. "Jimmy and I should get to town hall," Eric suggested. "You good?"
"Yeah," Jake nodded, watching them turn and leave.
Mary, at Jake's elbow, asked uneasily, "Homeland Security?"
"Well, that's what they said," Jake confirmed, not willing to trust anything yet. He walked back to the bar, the others trailing after him.
Stanley resumed his seat. "So, they're in charge now?"
"Well, they're supposed to be in charge in case of a disaster," Mimi shrugged. She also returned to her barstool, next to Stanley.
Mary bit her lip. "So what happens next?" she asked, looking at Mimi.
"Wh - Why you askin' her?" Stanley demanded, shaking his head. "She's from the IRS. Ask Jake," he suggested. "This is actually sorta his job," Stanley finished, glancing at his friend.
"She's from DC," Mary argued.
"And, don't ask me," Jake added, holding up his hands in an 'I'm out' gesture. "I try hard to avoid the kinda meetings where they go over that stuff."
They all turned to look at Mimi. "Okay," she started, taking a deep breath, "This is what they told us. First, they restore power, then communication, then transportation," she declared, suddenly smiling. "I am this close to non-fat lattes and shiatsu."
Jake nodded. Everything Mimi had said, at least regarding the restoration of essential services, made sense. "Does anybody have a quarter?" he asked, having already checked the change he had on him. "If they can call in, maybe we can call out," he reasoned, moving toward the pay phone.
Stanley searched his pockets, producing a quarter that he tossed to Jake. "Who you gonna call?"
"Start with my Mom," he decided, grabbing the receiver and inserting the quarter. "If a local call works, then I guess we try outta state."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thursday, October 18, five years before the bombs
EJ Green watched as his grandson started to take the box Heather Lisinski was carrying away from her, his hand brushing across hers, lingering a second or two longer than necessary. Jake offered her a smile, which she returned, coloring faintly. They both held onto the box, their eyes locked, watching one another intently, before Heather finally let go, taking a half-step back. Turning, Jake slid the box into place on the truck bed, and closed the tailgate. His gaze immediately returned to Heather, where it had been, really, almost the entire three hours they had been at the school. Not that Jake and Heather had been at all inappropriate, if only because Heather had concentrated on her professional duties, rarely turning her attention to Jake for more than a few seconds at a time. Now though, with just the three of them present, EJ felt very much like the proverbial third wheel.
"There's not much left inside, Gramps," Jake started, finally rotating to face his grandfather. "We should be able to handle it by ourselves," he continued, sidling into place next to Heather, their arms brushing together. "We'll go back in to get the last few things, and then we can take off," Jake offered, taking the truck keys out of his pocket, and handing them to the older man. "Okay?"
"Sure," EJ nodded, accepting the key ring. He knew when he was being dismissed. "I'll just wait here," he agreed, stepping toward the passenger door. "But don't hurry on my account," he instructed them, grinning. He liked Heather, and he liked the affect she had on his grandson, but he wasn't above teasing them both, or letting them know that he knew what was up. "I've got nothing pressing," he concluded.
Heather smiled in return, shifting on her feet self-consciously. "Well, I have to pick my class up from music in twenty minutes, anyway. So we won't be that long," she told him.
"Let's go," Jake said, throwing his grandfather an aggravated glance before following Heather toward the school building. "I'm sorry," he apologized a moment later, catching up with her as she stepped onto the sidewalk that led to the front entrance. "He -"
"He caught us kissing in the pantry last night," Heather reminded, interrupting. She looked at Jake, trying not to laugh. "And, neither of us was exactly thinking about stopping," she added, allowing a discomfited grin. Heather shook her head. "Considering that he and I were supposed to be reviewing today's presentation at the time," she sighed, "I think he's probably allowed to make fun of us a little. Look," Heather continued, squaring her shoulders. "It's fine. It was a little embarrassing - getting caught, I mean - but it didn't keep me from kissing you later, now did it?" she teased.
"No," he agreed, chuckling quietly. He reached out then, laying his hand on her forearm, resisting the urge to touch her more familiarly because they were standing out in the open, in plain sight of the street and the windows of nearly half the classrooms at Jericho Elementary. "I just don't want to - I don't want you to be embarrassed," Jake told her, frowning. "I don't want to be the reason that you are embarrassed."
The more time he spent with Heather, the more time Jake wanted to spend with her, and he recognized that he'd never thrown himself into a new relationship with a woman in the way he was doing so with her. After all, Jake had known Emily Sullivan most of his life, and falling for her had just been a shift in their existing relationship. With Emily, he'd been entering reasonably known territory, or at least that's how he'd felt at fifteen. Then after Emily, Jake had dated, but always casually, and always with something of a barrier between him and the woman he was seeing, if only because he realized now, he'd been holding out hope for some sort of reconciliation with Emily.
But, the last year had taught him that he couldn't resurrect that past, and while he hadn't been looking for anyone, he'd certainly found someone in Heather. He felt almost a constant compulsion to be around her. He wanted nothing more than to be with her, to figure out how they could fit together, and so far the answer was quite well. And so, he pursued her.
On Sunday night, after dinner with his family, Jake had driven his grandfather home to the ranch, and then turned around and headed back to Jericho, phoning Heather from the curb in front of her house to ask if he could come over. She'd agreed, laughing sweetly at him when he'd admitted his location. Heather had made him wait in the car for a few minutes while she'd taken care of the laundry she'd been folding. "There are certain things I'm not quite ready for you to see, pal," she'd told Jake, still giggling. Even over the phone, he could tell she was blushing.
That had set up their pattern for the week. Jake would come over every evening, and they would hang out until Heather reluctantly kicked him out so she could go to bed. That Sunday night, they had cuddled up on the couch, Jake occasionally distracting Heather from the lesson plan she was working on, but mostly he'd let her be, content to simply be with her. He'd ended up reading the entire Sunday paper for the first time in months.
On Monday night, he'd picked up hamburgers and fries for dinner, and they'd watched the Yankees/A's divisional play-off game on TV. Heather, sitting beside him on the couch, had corrected math tests and rooted quietly for the Yankees, out of home state loyalty, she'd claimed. Jake had rooted for the A's, because he couldn't stand the Yankees, he'd informed her. Heather, finishing her grading by the fifth inning, had snuggled herself up against Jake, laying her head on his chest. The Yankees had ended up winning, and Jake had realized that he really didn't care.
Tuesday, Heather had made them grilled cheese sandwiches and heated soup, informing Jake somewhat self-consciously that this was about the extent of her culinary abilities. Jake told her it was the best grilled cheese sandwich he'd ever had. Heather hadn't believed that at all, but she'd obviously appreciated that he'd said it. After dinner he'd helped her glue thirty sets of wooden blocks together in different configurations for an upcoming lesson. Later, his hands still sticky despite washing them, he'd caught them in her hair, pulling it, when he'd kissed her good night. They'd ended up laughing much too hard at that, and once Heather had freed her hair from between his fingers, she'd backed Jake up against her front door and kissed him much more thoroughly than she had on any previous occasion.
The prior evening, Wednesday, Jake's grandfather had invited Heather to dinner so he could explain his plans for the next day's presentation to her students. It was the first time since the day that they'd met that Jake had had to really share Heather with anyone else, and though he'd always had an easy relationship with grandfather, he'd found himself impatient for dinner to be over, and to have Heather all to himself once again. He had followed her back to town afterwards, both to make sure she was safe, and for the hour he'd known they would spend alone together before she sent him on his way.
"I'm not embarrassed, not really," Heather assured Jake, dragging his thoughts back to the present. She smiled at him, laying her free hand over his for just a moment. "To be honest, I don't know what I am right now," she admitted, "But it's all good, whatever it is that I am. And, I'm not embarrassed, Jake," Heather repeated, clearing her throat. "Maybe a little by my own reactions, I guess," she added, contradicting herself. "But definitely not by you."
They were straying into territory they'd mostly avoided since Saturday night, and Jake, reassured that she wasn't upset with him, breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay," he acknowledged. "But, just tell me if I do something - if I'm an idiot, or a jerk, or something."
"Will do," she agreed, biting her lip absently. Heather blinked and then smiled at him, her expression suddenly more confident. "I really do have to pick up my kids," she reminded. "Eighteen minutes," Heather clarified, checking her watch.
Jake nodded, motioning for her to lead the way. "We better get going then."
They walked into the school building side by side, not talking, not touching, but certainly looking quite companionable. Afternoon classes were in session, and except for one sixth grader armed with a hall pass, they didn't see anyone in the hallway as they walked to Heather's classroom. She unlocked the door, letting them both in, and then, grinning at him, relocked it once they were inside.
"What are you doing?" he asked, chuckling.
Heather continued to smile. "Hey, your grandfather's already decided that he knows what we're up to," she told Jake, drawing her fingertips down the length of his arm as she passed in front of him. She took two more steps, and then sat down on the edge of the table where the last of his grandfather's materials waited to be collected. "Wouldn't want to disappoint him," she teased.
"You mean, we've already been convicted, so we might as well commit the crime?" Jake laughed in return. Heather, he'd figured out quickly, wasn't a natural flirt, and Jake was coming to find that he enjoyed any attempt that she made in that arena, simply because it was all so intentional, and because it was all aimed directly at him.
"Not the terms I would have used, but yeah," she agreed, scooting back a few inches and eyeing him expectantly. "Jake," Heather prompted softly when he didn't move toward her.
He glanced at the bank of windows that ran the full length of the outside wall of the classroom, and then looked back at Heather. "If you're sure."
"There's some sort of safety coating on the windows," she responded. "Something to do with tornadoes that I really didn't want to understand when the janitor explained it to me," she admitted, flashing him a nervous smile. "One of the effects is we can see out, but nobody can see in."
"Windows blow out in tornadoes," Jake told Heather, coming to stand in front of her so that her knees rested against his legs. He took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to contemplate was Heather, stuck in a tornado. "But, I guess you could put something on the windows to keep them from shattering. Now, if there is a tornado," he continued, "And you're here, get into the interior of the building, the hallway," he instructed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Get down low, away from windows and doors, and cover yourself as best you can."
Heather reached for Jake's hand. "Okay," she muttered, shaking her head at him. "But, you know, you're supposed to be kissing me, not scaring the living bejeebers out of me about tornadoes."
Jake laughed somewhat uneasily. "Lucky I can do both," he answered, taking a half-step back, and then pulling Heather to her feet. "See?" he murmured, cupping her chin and pressing his mouth to hers. Jake kissed Heather gently, lazily, mindful of the fact - even if she wasn't - that she was at work, and that an hour from now she wouldn't want anyone suspecting that she had been kissing Jake Green in her classroom while her students were getting their weekly music lesson. Her arms tightened around him, and Jake raised his head, groaning softly. "Are you sure you have to go to the PTA meeting tonight?" he questioned.
"I do if I'm going to take my class to the science center in Wichita," she reminded with a crooked smile. "It's an expensive field trip. I need some money from the PTA, and their help raising the rest." Jake nodded, accepting her decision almost gracefully. "You should go hang out with Stanley tonight," she suggested. "Watch the game. He probably misses you, seeing how you're spending all your free time with me."
"Trust me, Stanley understands completely," Jake countered, kissing her quickly. "And, he doesn't like baseball that much," he lied.
"Well, I like baseball well enough, but it's really just something to do in the summer between hockey seasons," Heather teased, prompting an exasperated groan from Jake. "How about," she sighed, "I call you when I'm on my way home from the PTA, and if it's not too late you can come over."
"Deal," Jake agreed. "What's our time?" he asked, reaching around Heather to pull his grandfather's last two boxes forward.
Heather checked her watch. "Ten minutes. And, I need probably two of those to make it to the music room."
Jake looked in each carton, inspecting the contents before stacking one on top of the other. "I can manage these if you just come along to open doors," he told her.
"That I can do," she agreed.
Jake nodded, but didn't reach for the two boxes. "So, tomorrow night," he started, glancing at Heather. "And, only if you're interested, but I thought you might be. I was thinking that we could go stargazing," he suggested, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. "But, only if you want to," Jake repeated.
"From your grandparents' water tower?" Heather asked, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. She didn't wait for his confirmation. "Jake, I've wanted to do that since about five seconds after you explained it to me. I'd love to," she declared.
"Good," Jake responded, exhaling deeply. "We should do it now, if we want to do it. It's just gonna get colder, and then we'd have to wait 'til spring," he explained. "And, I checked the weather, tomorrow night's supposed to be clear, so everything should be good."
"I can't wait," she proclaimed, grinning at him. "Do I need to bring anything?"
"Just yourself," Jake assured her. "We've got everything else we'll need at the ranch. Dress warmly, and come out when you get done here," he said, smiling. Now that he was sure that he'd read her right, Jake found that he was truly looking forward to the next evening. "We can have dinner with Gramps, if you're willing to risk it now that he's on to us," Jake teased, "And as soon as it's dark, we'll go look at the stars."
"Cool," she murmured, still grinning. She took two steps toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I really can't wait," Heather repeated, kissing him softly. "And now," she continued, pulling reluctantly away, "I should probably walk you out. The State of Kansas and its pesky rules about instructional hours," she complained jokingly.
"Nah, don't even try that," Jake told her, picking up his two boxes. "I saw you today, you love this stuff," he argued. "And, you're great at it." He grinned at Heather. "Plus, I heard what your Mrs. McVee said. She was impressed, too." Jake had been talking to a bunch of boys about ancient arrowheads at the time, but he hadn't been able to resist eavesdropping on Heather's conversation with the principal. Mrs. McVeigh had attended his grandfather's presentation, and all she'd had for Heather was praise.
"Yeah, I do like watching little brains whirl," Heather admitted with a chuckle. She led him to the door and held it open for him. "It's neat to actually see a kid learn something," she shrugged. "And, if I didn't have you to distract me, I'd probably spend all my time thinking about learning styles and reading recovery and great, new science demonstrations, things like that," she teased.
He laughed. "Well then, I'll have to keep distracting you, just not now." Jake waited while Heather locked her classroom door. "There's something else," he said, sighing. "I got a phone call this morning, and I have to go back to Denver for a few days, starting Sunday night," he told her as they walked down the hall toward the school's front entrance.
"Well, yuck," Heather complained.
"Exactly," Jake grumbled in agreement. "But I have to go," he shrugged, "No way around it. I'm gonna leave after Sunday dinner with my family, and I was wondering if you wanted to come?" he asked hesitantly. "To dinner, not Denver," Jake clarified unnecessarily, a moment later. "You don't have to decide now, but just think about it."
They had reached the school entrance, and Heather backed into the door, pushing it open and holding it for Jake. "You want me to have dinner with your family on Sunday night?" she repeated as he brushed past her, exiting the building. "That's - wow."
Jake hadn't been sure that he should invite her to dinner, and now he knew it was a bad idea. "I shouldn't have said -"
"No, it's okay," Heather interrupted. She let the door fall closed behind her, joining Jake in the small courtyard in front of the school. She faced him, her expression conflicted. "I'm a little surprised, that's all. I'd think I should be more - I've only known you a week," she reminded, though Jake got the distinct impression that Heather was talking to herself as much as she was talking to him. She bit her lip, and for some reason seemed to be trying not to smile. "I think I might wanna go," Heather informed Jake.
"Well, you already know Gramps, and you've met my parents. My mother, I'm sure, would like to get to know you better." Jake didn't tell Heather that he was also certain his mother had been running around Jericho all week, trying to see what she could learn about Heather Lisinski. "That just leaves Eric and April, and they're harmless," he assured her.
"If you think it's all right," Heather replied, still worrying her lip, "That your Mom won't mind, then I think I will come." She grinned at Jake, and then checked her watch. "I really have to go," she groaned, stepping forward to quickly kiss him on the cheek.
"Call me tonight," Jake reminded her, catching her hand with his, and managing, somehow, to keep from dropping his grandfather's boxes.
"I will," she agreed, squeezing his hand. Their gazes locked, her eyes sparkling softly. "I'll see you later," she promised him, and then she slipped from his grasp, re-entering the school building. The door closed behind her, and Jake watched through the window as she took off, almost running, for the other end of the school, where her class waited for her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday, October 4, two weeks after the bombs
Jake tried eight or nine times to place his phone call, but the lines were overloaded, and eventually the payphone kept the quarter Stanley had given him. He ambled back to where Stanley and Mimi were sitting, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Not workin'," he told them. "Think I better go see what's goin' on at town hall."
Stanley nodded, holding out his hand to Jake. "Catch you later, man," he said as they shook.
"What d' I owe you for the coffee?" Jake asked Mary, catching her eye.
"On the house," she called back. "Just let me know if you hear any real news," Mary requested.
He raised his hand in acknowledgment, and then headed for the door. Outside, Jake found that the downtown district had come alive. There were people everywhere, talking nervously and trying to use their cell phones to no avail. He waved at a few people whom he knew, but didn't bother to stop and chat. At town hall, he bypassed the sheriff's station, mounting the stairs, heading directly for his father's office.
"Hey, Dad," he greeted, entering the room. Jake glanced to right. Bill was fiddling with the television set, but wasn't coming up with anything more than the Emergency Alert System message. "It's the same thing on every channel?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
"So far," Eric confirmed. Jake looked to his left, exchanging nods with his brother. "What about the radio?"
"Same message," Johnston grumbled, slumping slightly in his chair. "Sit and wait." He studied his son's profile for a moment. "You look like crap," he informed him.
Jake glanced back at his father, stiffening under the other man's censure. "Haven't been sleeping much," he admitted.
"Hard to get a good night's rest if you're playin' cards in the bar before seven in the mornin'," Johnston observed with a hard stare.
Eric's somewhat defiant expression betrayed him immediately, and although Jake glared at his brother, he decided it wasn't worth calling him out. It also wasn't worth correcting his father's mistaken impression, as much it annoyed him. Jake, feeling more than a little obstinate, didn't think he should need to point out that all he'd had to drink was coffee, and all he'd been playing was war. Exhausted as he was, Jake couldn't sleep right now, not for very long, anyway. While he fell asleep every night, he always woke up after an hour or so, and then spent the rest of the night awake, plagued by his own thoughts, watching Heather sleep next to him, as he tried to not disturb her. But if his father wanted to believe that his problem was hanging out at Bailey's early in the morning, well, Jake wasn't going to disabuse him of that notion.
"Sooner or later, the phones are gonna free up," Johnston declared, apparently having decided that he'd given Jake enough to think about. "Let's keep callin' out 'til we reach somebody."
"Calling who?" Bill asked, changing the channel only to find the same Emergency Alert message.
Johnston shrugged. "The Homeland Security message came out of Topeka," he reminded. "Let's start there."
"Yeah, but everybody's thinking that," Eric argued, leaning over his father's desk. "I say we start with the National Guard base in Great Bend."
"That's a good idea, Son," Johnston acknowledged, turning in his chair.
Jake looked away for a moment, not quite able to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "We should get to the gas station, get some gas while -"
"I already sent Jimmy," Eric interrupted, straightening. "He's there now, running the pumps."
"We need to charge our batteries," Jake offered next, only to have Eric point to the corner table where no less than ten cell phones were being charged.
Jake laughed soundlessly at himself. Eric, like always, was turning this into a competition, trying to prove that he was the better son. He'd won this round, that was obvious, and Jake decided that it was easier to allow Eric his victory than to keep trying to stay in the race.
"All right," Jake conceded, turning to leave. "It looks like you got it covered."
"Where you goin'?" Johnston demanded, starting to climb up out of his seat.
Jake looked back over his shoulder, meeting his father's eye. "You don't need me," he told him, shrugging. "Besides, I have things I could be doing."
* * * * *
Leaving town hall, Jake walked the four blocks to Jericho Elementary, and upon arriving, headed for the office to check in. Mrs. Crenshaw, the school secretary and a Jericho institution, was glad, as always, to see him. "Good morning, Jake," she greeted warmly, coming around the counter to give him a hug.
Mrs. Crenshaw had held her post for nearly thirty-five years, and had always had a soft spot in her heart for Jake Green. He'd waited for his turn to see the principal, sitting in the chair next to her desk, a fair number of times during his elementary school career, and he had always talked to her. He was one of the only kids she could recall who would admit when he was wrong, and he'd usually had a pretty good argument for those times when he'd believed he was right. Mrs. Crenshaw had been relieved when the truth of his involvement with Jonah Prowse had come out, and happy for both Jake and that nice Miss Lisinski when they'd announced their engagement. Some of the teachers had been begrudging in their congratulations, but Mrs. Crenshaw had told Miss Lisinski that she was a lucky woman. So far, everything had seemed to prove her right.
"How can I help you?" she asked, patting him on the arm. "Do you know anything more about what's going on with the power and the phones?"
"Sorry, Mrs. Crenshaw," Jake answered. "I was just at town hall, but my Dad hasn't been able to get any more information yet, either," he shrugged. "I need to talk to Heather for a minute," he continued. "Is it all right if I -?"
"Go, go!" Mrs. Crenshaw said, waving him out of the office. "You don't even need to ask," she assured him. "You know the way."
"Thanks, Mrs. Crenshaw," he grinned. "And, I'm around," Jake reminded, tapping two fingers on the countertop, "So, if I hear anything, I'll let you know."
"Thank you, Jake," she smiled in return. "You go take care of Heather now."
Less than a minute later, Jake was standing in front of his wife's classroom door. He knocked, but given the noise level inside, he doubted that he'd been heard. Opening the door, Jake ducked inside to find one of Heather's 'organized chaos' lessons in progress. The desks were all pushed off to the sides, and what looked like a rather odd relay race was being run down the middle of the room. Heather was supervising it all.
"Hi, Mr. Green," whispered Julie, the girl who had come looking for help the night of the bombs. She was standing at the end of her team's line, a few feet from Jake.
"Hi, Julie," Jake whispered in return, smiling at her. He stepped closer, leaning down to ask, "What is this?"
"Math and spelling relay," she answered, still speaking softly. The boy at the front of her line drew a card out of a basket and groaned. He dropped to the ground and started to crab-walk to the other end of the room.
"Hey," Heather said, moving carefully around the race in progress, coming to stand next to Jake. "What are you doing here?"
"What in the world are they doing?" he inquired, ignoring her question. A girl on the other team started to hop across the classroom on one foot, while the crab-walking boy reached the desk at the other end and sat down.
Heather pulled him away from the two lines of kids, and over to her desk. "Relay race," she explained, shrugging. "None of them are really ready to go back to school as usual, so they're doing a math problem at one end, spelling a word at the other, and doing different locomotion in between. Just something I threw together."
"No wonder state officials think you're subversive," Jake grinned at her. "And, how come I never had a teacher like you?"
She laughed at him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. "Apparently you were very unlucky as a child," Heather told him. "But at least you have me now," she teased. "Are you here -"
Whatever Heather had been going to say was cut off by a loud crash, followed by one of the girls wailing, "Mrs. Green, Matthew fell over doing sidewinders!"
"Excuse me," Heather sighed, stepping around Jake. "Timeout!" she called, holding her hands up in a 'T' and moving through the crowd of kids gathered around the unfortunate Matthew. "Are you okay, Matt?" she asked offering him her hand to help him up.
"Yeah," Matthew conceded, shrugging. "I was hurrying and I fell."
Heather nodded. "That happens. Do you want to keep playing?" she asked, looking around at all of the kids.
"Uh-huh," Matthew murmured, and then the other children answered that they wanted to keep playing, too. Heather stepped out of the way, declaring the timeout over. The race resumed.
"Power's on," Jake told Heather when she returned to where he was standing. "So the gas pumps are working again," he reminded. "I came to get your car keys."
She grinned at him. "You're the best husband ever," Heather declared, turning to pull her purse from the bottom desk drawer.
"We both know that's not true," Jake snorted. "But, there's gonna be a line, so I might as well go wait in it."
"Well, thank you for that," she responded, handing over her keys. "Do you have any way to pay for gas?"
"I've got some cash," he answered. Jake had gotten into the safe at the ranch twice since he'd come home, but both times were to retrieve firearms, and he hadn't bothered to pull out his bank cards, half of which had probably expired. "It should be fine."
"Do you want my ATM card?" Heather offered. "Might be a good idea to hold onto the cash."
"Okay."
Heather dug her wallet out of her purse, and then found her debit card. She handed it to him. "My PIN's five-two-five-three," she told him.
"I'm your PIN?" Jake asked, smirking.
She shook her head, giggling softly at herself. "You weren't supposed to notice that."
"I've looked at a phone keypad more than once in my life," he returned, chuckling. "And, you're supposed to pick something's that hard to guess," Jake chided.
"Someone would have to know us both in order to guess that," Heather argued.
"Mrs. Green," called out Lucas, the boy from the bus that night, Jake identified, looking over the crowd of students who were all now watching them. "We're all done."
Heather turned her attention back to her class. "Good!" she declared, smiling brightly. "Which team won?"
"Red Team!" the apparent Red Team shouted back, almost in unison.
The kids on the other team looked a little dejected, but Heather turned her smile on them. "Hey, it was anybody's race," she told them. "The Blue Team did fine. Now," she continued, "Can somebody collect up all the papers for me? And, the rest of you, please move your desks back where they belong."
The kids got right to work, the noise level deafening as they dragged their desks across the floor, and back into place. Heather looked at Jake. "So that'll take about ninety seconds."
"I better go anyway," he responded. "Line's probably pretty long."
"Okay," she agreed, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. "Thanks." Behind them, they heard giggles and a few disgusted declarations of 'Ew!' Heather laughed softly, leaning her head against Jake's shoulder for a second. "They're eight," she reminded a moment later, throwing him a wry smile.
"That they are," Jake nodded, winking at her. There was another crashing sound, and they turned to see that two boys had collided, pushing their desks into place. "Bumper desks," Jake muttered, chuckling softly. "I'm gonna go," he told her, squeezing her hand before heading for the door.
Taking a deep breath, Heather walked forward, re-entering the fray. "Okay, boys. Let's try this again."
* * * * *
It had taken Jake less than an hour to get through the gas line, mainly because Jimmy was doing a good job of running it, enforcing a strict ten gallon limit at four dollars a gallon, cash only. The price was steep, more than a third higher than anyone in Jericho had been paying the two weeks before, but Jake could see the wisdom in the decision. When the gas ran out at Murthy's, they'd end up paying a lot more than that for gas, and probably not in cash.
He drove to his parents' house, letting himself in by the front door. Jericho had never been a place where anyone bothered to lock their doors, and the recent spate of burglaries was apparently not enough to induce his mother to start. She was vacuuming, and Jake couldn't help but laugh to himself at that. Of course his mother would vacuum as soon as the power came back on for the first time in two weeks. Gail Green was a former nurse who believed that cleanliness really was next to godliness, a neatnik, and a hater of carpet lint.
"Hey," he called out, grinning and waving to get her attention.
"Jake!" Gail greeted, turning off the vacuum cleaner, and crossing the entry to give him a hug. "What are you doing here, sweetheart?"
He shrugged. "Thought I'd come by and see if there's anything I could do for you."
"Everything's under control here," she assured him. "I may go out to the ranch later, check the horses."
"Tony and Eddie have practically moved into the hospital barn, Mom," Jake told her. "They've got it covered."
"Well, we'll see," she sighed. "It is my business after all," Gail reminded, starting to wind up the vacuum's power cord. Jake stepped to his mother's side and assumed the job from her. "I'm sure your father could use your help today."
"No." Jake's rejection of her suggestion was emphatic. "I'm sorry, Mom, but trust me, that's not happenin', not today."
Gail knew her son, and she knew that when he got like this, there was no reasoning with him. She decided to try another subject. "So," she sighed, watching Jake as he returned the vacuum cleaner to the hall closet, "What happens now?"
Jake walked back into the living room. "Now?" he asked, his expression puzzled.
"You know," she explained, pointing at the Emergency Alert message on the TV, "When we find out what's going on. What do you do then?"
"When I came home I was already plannin' to take a couple months off," he told her, moving to the front window. "Seven months overseas, I earned it," Jake sighed. He peered through the shutters, checking the street in front of the house, and then seated himself on the window seat. "Everything that's happened, I'm not going back. I probably don't have a job to go back to, even if I wanted to. And, it was never the plan to do that forever."
Gail nodded, more than relieved. "There's a plan?" she inquired, kneeling on the couch, facing Jake over the back.
"Always has been," he replied, chuckling softly. "Heather's bad influence on me."
"Heather's a good influence on you," Gail smiled, contradicting him. "What was the plan?"
"Just when we had kids," Jake explained, shrugging, "That I find something else to do with myself, something where I'm home. We made that deal a long time ago."
"Smart girl, our Heather," Gail murmured, allowing a pleased sigh. "To get you to agree to that deal, way back when."
"Yeah, well," Jake shook his head, "I was gonna do it anyway. After Jonah's trial, I was ready to quit - I almost did. I was gonna go back to flying, be home more than I wasn't." Jake paused, exhaling deeply. The sudden tension in his frame was obvious, his jaw almost twitching as he clenched it. "You know," he complained, looking at his mother, "I never know what he wants me to do."
There was no need to ask who 'he' was, but Gail still didn't understand completely what Jake was trying to say. "What do you mean?" she asked. "What happened? Why didn't you -"
"I figured he'd think I was a quitter!" Jake practically barked, frustrated. Gail watched as he climbed back to his feet and began to pace slowly, back and forth behind the sofa. "Not like I can ever do anything right, far as he's concerned. But, at least - at least he couldn't say that about me."
"He didn't want you to go back," Gail informed him softly. "Not when it took you away so much, especially after you married Heather."
Jake pressed his lips together, and his mother could almost see him swallow the angry retort he'd been about to make. "Then why didn't he tell me that?" Jake demanded finally. He sighed. "Why didn't he talk to me?"
Gail waited until Jake looked at her, meeting her eye, before she answered. "Because he knew you'd resent it," she told him sadly. Jake scowled and looked away, but Gail could see that he was still listening. "There's a stubborn streak that runs in the family," she murmured, "And, honey, you both have it in spades." She waited a second, and then continued. "One of you is gonna have to give in, start talking first."
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, but finally Jake glanced at his mother again, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And, you think it should be me," he said.
"I think maybe you owe him that much."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *