Different Circumstances: Part 5C of ? by Marzee Doats
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday, October 4, two weeks after the bombs
"You two aren't supposed to be here," April accused, hands on her hips, as she watched Jake and Heather climb out of their car. She'd been putting a box of papers - things she didn't want anyone seeing - in the trunk of her own car when Jake had driven up behind her.
"Don't give me that look," Jake defended himself. April had a glare that would've done his mother proud. "This was her idea," he added, pointing at Heather. "She thinks you're in dire need of our help."
April shook her head. "You had a traumatic experience today," she told Heather. "Physically traumatic," April emphasized. "You need to rest, and take care of yourself. And, you were supposed to make her," she added, frowning at Jake. "You're a horrible nurse, you know that?"
"Probably 'cause I'm not a nurse," Jake reminded, rolling his eyes. "Usually, if she's sick, I just check her three, four times a day, bring food and medicine."
"Besides, I feel fine," Heather argued. "I ate, I had a nap, I took a Tylenol, I did everything you told me to do."
"She also threw up, had three bad coughing fits, plus coughed the whole time she was sleeping," Jake reported.
"Tattle tale," Heather accused softly.
Frowning, April made an aggravated noise. "You should be resting," she told Heather. "And, if you're not gonna do it for yourself, do it for your baby," April stressed. "Please!"
"There's gotta be something I can do, low impact, to help out," Heather suggested. She looked at Jake, grinning. "Make him do all the hard stuff."
"Thanks," Jake grumbled. "And, that reminds me." He stuck his hand out just under her chin. "Spit."
"Excuse me?" Heather replied, confusion written on her face.
Jake glanced at April and then back at Heather. "April said I was to make you spit every once in awhile. So spit."
"That's disgusting!" Heather complained. April's expression showed that she agreed.
"I have a passing acquaintance with your saliva," Jake reminded. "I'm pretty sure I'll live." She blushed at that, and tried to push his hand away. April snickered, a hint of a smile easing her tired appearance. Jake allowed a smirk. "What?" he argued, "It's not like I said I had an intimate acquaintance with your saliva."
Heather socked him on the shoulder for that, glaring. Her blush deepened. "Jake Green, you just did."
"Whoops," he acknowledged, his tone completely unrepentant. Jake looked at April again, glad to see that she'd developed a full-blown smile. "So, April, I have to ask, as a doctor, does any of this shock you?"
April laughed out loud. "It's been a long time since I was shocked by anything you said or did, Jake." She looked at Heather. "Hey, I say spit. Call it doctor's orders."
"Fine!" Heather declared. She threw him a wicked grin, and spent a few seconds working up a mouthful of saliva, before grabbing Jake's wrist to hold his hand in place, and then spitting into his palm.
"Nice," Jake chuckled, holding his hand out for April to inspect.
"Well, I was going for volume," Heather told him smugly. She'd been embarrassed at first, but with only April present, she knew there was no reason to be. April was more than used to Jake, and it had made her laugh, which Heather figured was probably a big part of what he'd been going for, anyway.
"You succeeded," Jake assured her.
"What in the world are you all doing?" Eric demanded, joining them. He looked at each of them in turn, his expression clearly indicating that he was wondering if they were all insane.
April laughed softly. "Jake Green's guerilla medical testing service."
"For smoke inhalation," Heather added, crossing her arms over her chest. "They're trying to decide if I'm gonna die," she explained, coughing twice, softly.
"I'm trying to decide if you need to be in the clinic, on oxygen," April corrected. "But, looks clear to me," she announced.
"Good," Jake agreed, turning his hand over, and flicking the pool of saliva off. Both Heather and April squealed and jumped out of the way. He rolled his eyes. "You two are both such girls," he grumbled, wiping his palm on the leg of his jeans.
Heather laughed. "You'd prefer I wasn't a girl?" she teased.
"Just an observation," Jake grinned, winking at her.
"I need you to spit, too," April decided, facing Eric. She was frowning again, a perfect picture of exhaustion and stress. "You weren't in there as long as Heather, but just to be sure, Eric."
"You're gonna have to use your own hand," Jake informed his brother, wrapping his arm around Heather.
Eric groaned, but then he spit on his palm, showing it to April, who nodded her approval. "Happy?" he asked, wiping his hand clean.
"Yes," April agreed, her expression turning pensive. She offered Eric a half-smile. "Thank you."
"Sure," he acknowledged.
"There's got to be something I can do to help," Heather told April again.
For a moment, it looked like April was going to turn her down, but then she sighed. "How about you pack clothes into suitcases," she suggested. "Just no lifting of suitcases."
Heather nodded. "That I can do."
The two women headed into the house, Eric right behind them until Jake grabbed his arm. "Hey." Eric stopped, turning to face his brother. "Thanks," Jake muttered. "At the library, the fire, Heather. Thanks for going in after her, getting her out."
Eric shrugged. "No problem. That's what family does. And, you know," he continued, tilting his head at the burned out front of his house. "Thanks."
"That's what family does," Jake echoed.
* * * * *
Jake found Heather in April's and Eric's bedroom a half hour later. There were seven mostly full suitcases of various sizes scattered on the floor and bed. "Who has this many suitcases?" he asked, looking around from the doorway, chuckling.
"I have three," Heather reminded, pulling a pile of Eric's t-shirts from his dresser, and then dropping them directly into the nearest suitcase. "I know you're fond of your duffle bag and all, hon," she teased, "But the rest of us have embraced the wonders of rolling luggage."
"Don't go knockin' my duffle bag," Jake smiled, taking a step into the room. "It does the job." He waited a second, and then asked, "'Bout ready? Eric and I loaded up our car, so we can head over to Mom and Dad's when you're done."
"Almost," she agreed. "Let me just finish packing this one up," Heather requested, tapping the suitcase nearest her with her foot. "Can you zip those ones closed for me?" she added, pointing at two others on the floor near the closet door. "I have to admit," she said, covering her mouth as she coughed, "The smoky smell is starting to get to me."
"Then, let's get out of here," Jake murmured, stepping behind her, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Heather leaned her head back against his chest, and he kissed the side of her head. "Remember painting this room?" Jake asked. "When they first moved in?"
Heather laughed. "Yeah, it took me a week to get the paint out of my hair, thanks to you."
"That really was an accident," he insisted. "I was aiming for your nose."
"Well, that would have been so much better," she giggled, pulling away momentarily. She extracted another stack of shirts from the dresser, dropping them into the suitcase, and then turned to face Jake, his arms coming around her automatically.
"Just a little dab right there," he told Heather, touching the tip of her nose. "You're the one who flinched."
She smiled at him, shaking her head. "That was quite a weekend," she sighed. "They were so happy."
"April's dream house," Jake agreed.
"What about Eric?" Heather countered. "No man should be that excited about a lawn."
"No self-respecting man should cut the grass to golf course regulation height, and install a sand trap in his backyard, either."
"That too," Heather chuckled. She brushed her lips across his. "Take care of those suitcases for me," she reminded, "And then we can go."
Jake nodded, hugging her close for a moment. "You got it, babe."
* * * * *
"Mom!" Jake called out, opening the front door of his parents' house with his elbow. He hefted the box of books he was carrying, shouting again. "Mom! Dad!"
Gail Green hurried into the entry from the kitchen. "Shush, Jake," she ordered, "Your father's napping, and he needs his rest. You're as bad as when you were a kid," she complained, chuckling. "And, just what do you think you're doing, Heather Marie?" Gail demanded next, facing her daughter-in-law with a stern expression.
Heather, who was carrying an armload of winter outerwear, shrugged. "It's just coats," she argued. "Jake wouldn't let me bring anything else in." She rolled her eyes. "And my middle name?" Heather questioned, bemused. "You never use middle names."
"Members of this family don't go running into burning buildings, either," Gail huffed, relieving Heather of the bundle of clothing in her arms. "Especially the pregnant ones. Jake," she continued, glancing at her son, still balancing the box of books on his hip, "Put that down anywhere." Gail carried the coats a few steps into the living room, depositing them on the couch. "Whatever were you thinking?" she asked, turning around to glare softly at Heather.
Heather sighed, "I was thinking that there was an eight year old inside that burning building."
"But you're pregnant!" Gail protested.
"And, so was Ashley Morrison's mother nine years ago," Heather argued. "There wasn't anyone else around. What if no one else had shown up in time? Was I supposed to tell her mother that I'm sorry, I didn't look after your daughter like I was supposed to because I'm having a baby?" She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "I know what I did wasn't the smartest, but it's what I did."
"You're okay?" Gail inquired, "Really okay?"
Jake came up behind Heather, laying his hands on her shoulders. "She's okay, Mom," he assured her. "April told me what to look for, and I've been watching her like a hawk."
"He's threatening to lock me in the house," Heather added, rolling her eyes.
"Now I'm thinkin' I'll just follow you around all day, keep you out of trouble that way," he told her, kissing the top of her head.
"How exactly is having you follow me around gonna keep me out of trouble?" Heather teased, turning around to lace her arms around his neck before kissing Jake quickly. "Besides, you'd be bored to tears, doing what I do most days."
Gail watched them, smiling to herself. "I think Heather may have a point, Jake," she informed him once Heather turned back around, and there was a fighting chance that they were paying attention to her. "You weren't a fan of the third grade the first time through."
"Didn't have Mrs. Green for a teacher," he told her. "Ask any kid in Jericho," Jake grinned. "She's cool."
"I think I'm being buttered up," Heather joked, throwing Jake a knowing glance.
Gail nodded, smiling softly. "I think you're right."
Jake's expression turned serious. "We've got a carload of April's and Eric's things," he said. "I'll just bring everything in, leave it down here, and you all can decide where it's going?"
"I can help with that," Johnston called out, drawing their attention back to the entry.
"Johnston Green, you're supposed to be napping," his wife scolded, walking towards him. "How do you expect to ever get better if you don't take the time to recover?"
"I've got more important things to do than lay around during the day," he responded, his tone obstinate. "It's just a cold," Johnston added, coughing, "And, contrary to the opinions of some in this room," he drawled, glancing quickly in Jake's direction, "I'm not an old man." He turned his attention on Heather, "So, what d' you have to say for yourself, young lady?" Johnston demanded.
"You're gonna yell at me too?" Heather asked, groaning softly as he approached her.
"Who's yelled at you?" Johnston questioned.
Heather sighed. "Jake, April and Gail."
He wrapped one arm around Heather, giving her a sideways hug. "I should yell at you on Joe's behalf, if nothin' else," he told her. "Your Dad would be spittin' nails if he knew what you did today. But," Johnston decided, "I figure if April, Gail and Jake have all yelled at you, then I'd only be repeatin' one or all of them." He kissed her on the forehead, and then pulled away, covering his mouth as he coughed again, a dry, hacking sound emanating from his chest. "How're you feelin?" he asked, once he recovered.
"My throat's pretty sore," she admitted, starting to cough too. "And, I sound just like you," she continued after a few seconds, clearing her throat loudly. "We should try to harmonize later," Heather joked. "I'm okay, I promise."
Johnston studied her for a moment, and then nodded. "Good. Let's try and keep it that way," he said, glancing at Jake, including him in the order.
"That's the plan, Dad," Jake agreed, meeting his father's gaze.
"Okay then. Let's get to work on that car."
* * * * *
Jake came back through the front door fifteen minutes later. "Hey," he greeted his mother and wife, as he walked passed them to deposit one last box on the growing pile stacked against the wall in the hallway. He turned around, heading back into the dining room. "Good silver," Jake observed as he approached the table. "What's the occasion?"
Gail glanced at Heather, who was putting the last piece in place on the table. "Well, this set's been passed down for five generations. Probably seen the light of day maybe half a dozen times since I've had it," she explained. "So we decided, from now on, every night's a special occasion."
"Did you turn off the TV?" Jake asked next, looking at the dark set.
"Yeah," Gail replied with a shrug. "It seemed kinda silly to be starin' at a blank screen waiting for God knows who, to tell me God knows what."
"Plus, the electronic whine was really annoying me," Heather added.
"That too," her mother-in-law agreed. "So," Gail continued, her gaze settling on Jake. "Where's your father?"
"He's goin' over to April's and Eric's with the truck," he answered. "See if he can help out."
"And, did you talk to him?" his mother inquired.
"Of course we talked," Jake told her, gripping the back of the dining chair in front of him.
"I mean besides 'hey, grab that, will ya?' and 'here you go'," Gail argued. "I mean that talk that you and I talked about."
Annoyance flickered across Jake's face. "I didn't agree to anything," he reminded, grimacing. Her stare - That Look, as he always referred to it - hardened, and Jake exhaled, obviously exasperated. "I'll think about it," he conceded finally before turning on his heel and stomping quietly out of the room.
Gail glanced at Heather, frowning pensively. "Well, that went better than I was expecting," she admitted.
"Yeah," Heather nodded. "Yeah."
* * * * *
"So, you found my hidin' spot," Johnston Green observed, greeting his son as he entered the den.
"I think this is everybody's hiding spot," Jake returned. "Just needed some place to be. Nothin' to do for the moment."
Johnston nodded. "You've been doin' a lot lately. Takin' twenty minutes off before dinner's probably okay." He placed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the coffee table between them before seating himself on the couch, opposite Jake. "You allowed to drink this?" he asked, starting to pour.
"Legally? Only for the last decade, Dad," Jake reminded, meeting his father's gaze with a quizzical look.
"I mean, am I gonna get you in trouble with Heather?" Johnston explained. "Pregnant women sometimes have their rules."
"If you were servin' coffee, I'd have to watch out," Jake shrugged, chuckling. "But Heather doesn't like whiskey."
"Okay then," Johnston acknowledged, pushing a glass across the table to Jake. "All yours."
Jake sighed. "It's somethin' else every day," he muttered, slumping slightly in his seat. He didn't reach for his drink. "How are we gonna handle all this?"
"Same way we did today," Johnston replied, pouring himself three fingers of the whiskey. "Lost a few buildings, but no lives." He sat back on the couch, studying his son. "And, that's in no small part thanks to you. Lotta folks are saying how lucky Jericho is that you came home when you did."
"And what are you telling them?" Jake asked.
"Well, I try to correct them," he said, grinning softly, "But nobody listens to me." Johnston laughed, eliciting an ironic smile from Jake. "Course, it's not just Jericho that's lucky," he added, starting to cough. "You're damn lucky yourself, Jake," Johnston gasped.
"I know that, Dad," he muttered.
"Do you?" Johnston questioned. "We love Heather, and we're gonna love that baby. Your mother's already started knittin'," he told Jake. "And if you hadn't come back when you did, we would've taken care of her, taken care of 'em both. But, it woulda broken her heart, if you hadn't come back. If your plane had been two hours late -"
Jake snorted. "My plane was two hours late. They held us in San Diego for a broken lavatory door."
"Then, if it'd been four hours late," Johnston argued, raising his voice. "If you'd been closer to Denver - maybe in Denver - when that bomb hit. We all saw what happened to those refugees. They're dead," he reminded. "You would have widowed Heather and orphaned your child before you even knew you were havin' one. She loves you, and she's put up with -"
"Do you think I don't know that?" Jake demanded angrily, interrupting his father. "You think it doesn't keep me up at night?"
"Welcome to marriage, Son," Johnston drawled. "Marriage is hard."
They stared silently at one another for a long moment. Jake picked up his glass, still watching his father over its rim as he took a sip of the whiskey. "I'm not the one who needs this speech, Dad," he muttered.
Something flashed in Johnston's expression, something that Jake couldn't quite define but that at least told him that his father understood what he was implying. Johnston Green knew that all was not right between Eric and April, but whatever else he knew, he was keeping to himself. "Maybe you don't," Johnston agreed finally. He played with his glass for a moment, and then took a drink. "But I'm still feelin' like givin' it. Indulge me," he ordered.
Jake's only answer was a narrow-eyed glare that took Johnston back fifteen years. Still, he didn't refuse to listen, and Johnston interpreted that as begrudging permission to continue. "You've taken Heather for granted, Jake," he started, sighing tiredly. "She'd never say it - probably doesn't even think it - but you have. You married her, and then continued to live your life, make your choices, like nothin' had changed." He paused, surprised that Jake hadn't stormed out yet. Johnston hadn't expected to get this far. "You kept that job, went gallivanting all over the world."
"You married Mom, and then served three tours in Vietnam," Jake reminded through clenched teeth. "What I've done is nothing different from that."
"I was in the Army, and we were at war," Johnston argued. "It was a different time."
"It's not any different," Jake contradicted, shaking his head. "I was doing what I'd agreed to do, what I'd been trained to do, same as you," he grumbled. "Maybe I wasn't in the Army, but I'd made a commitment. Heather knew it, and she understood. It wasn't gonna be permanent, and she knew that, too." Jake took a deep breath, trying to marshal his thoughts. His mother had said he owed his father this explanation, and maybe he did. "You know what the hardest part about growin' up your son was?" he asked, surprising Johnston with the sudden shift in topic. "It's not the politics, or the expectations," Jake insisted. "It's that I never know what you want me to do."
"You'd think I could get it right once in awhile," Jake chuckled grimly, his hands balled into fists on his lap. "Law of averages should at least allow for that, but no. When was the last time I did anything you were proud of? Hell - that you approved of? Have I ever?"
Johnston was embarrassed to realize that the first things that came to mind were the bad things, the things he'd have to say that he was ashamed of Jake for. The Emily Sullivan pregnancy scare when they were both sixteen; the West Point appointment that had been Jake's for the taking, but which he'd turned down; the semester Jake had spent of academic probation because he hadn't seen any need to attend 'the boring classes' when he could be sleeping instead; and of course, although it had turned out to not be true, when he'd been fired from the DEA and investigated for corruption. Johnston could still remember the dazed, ashen expression on his wife's face, the feeling like he'd been punched in the gut, as Gail had explained that Jake would be coming home to stay with them for awhile, though she couldn't say how long, and that she needed him to support her in this decision. It had turned out to be an elaborate lie constructed for an undercover operation, but it had still hurt, and Johnston could still vividly recall just how angry and upset with Jake he'd been.
But, he also knew that he couldn't tar Jake with that ten or fifteen year old brush anymore. Not if he ever wanted the opportunity to sit in the den with his son and have a drink and a decent conversation without the bitter taste of misunderstanding in his mouth. His mind might go to the bad first, but Jake had changed, and there was good to think about, too. Johnston knew he had plenty to be proud of these days. "There was a time - a pretty long time - when the only way I could've described you was as a stupid little punk," he admitted with a sigh. "'But that hasn't been true for awhile," he continued, meeting Jake's wary gaze evenly. "You're a pretty decent fellow, Jake."
Johnston picked up his glass, swirling the remaining liquid around absently before throwing his head back and finishing the drink off in one gulp. "Today, when you got the pump station working, and the water back on. I was proud of you. When you rescued that bus full of kids, got everyone into the salt mine and outta the fallout. When you graduated college and became a pilot," he listed quietly. "When you put Jonah Prowse in prison where he belonged."
"Jonah got parole three months ago," Jake mumbled tiredly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at his father, his expression truly puzzled.
"I know," Johnston acknowledged with a shrug. "But I got nearly five years without Jonah Prowse makin' trouble in this town. I'll take it," he assured his son. "And, one more important one," he sighed. "When you recognized what you had in Heather, and married her."
Jake didn't say anything for a long time, sitting instead, studying his father. He knew it was his turn, but he didn't know what to say, what to admit, how to return the favor of his father's most startling revelation. "I was gonna resign after Jonah's trial," Jake said finally.
His voice was barely a whisper, and Johnston had to strain to hear him. Jake picked up his glass, and then drank the rest of its contents quickly. He didn't cough or wince, but he did squint just enough that Johnston couldn't help but smile behind his hand. This was good whiskey, not the rot-gut alcohol that the teenagers in Jericho managed to acquire by the barrelful, year after year.
"I even had my letter, signed, in an envelope, ready to hand to Gretchen as soon as the verdict came down, either way," Jake continued. "And then, I couldn't do it," he admitted, frowning. "I didn't - I figured - I didn't want a lecture on responsibility, or duty, or whatever. So, I gave the letter to Heather," he explained, looking his father in the eye. "And, I made it her call," he admitted, a guilty glint in his eye.
"She wouldn't do that," Johnston told his son, resisting the urge to pour them both a second drink. Neither of them needed it, no matter how much easier it would have made this conversation.
"No, she wouldn't," Jake agreed, exhaling deeply. "Not for herself, anyway."
Johnston nodded, pursing his lips as he considered his next words carefully. "Heather's a good woman, and she's been very patient with you, Jake," he began. "It's time you started puttin' her first, ahead of yourself. Heather and the baby, both," he murmured. "I've never doubted that you love her, but now you're gonna have to do more than that," Johnston insisted. "You need to be here. Home. In Jericho. The world's a different place, and she and that baby are gonna need everything you can give 'em. Put them first," he concluded, "And the rest will take care of itself, somehow."
Jake nodded once and sat back in his chair. He looked overwhelmed, and just the slightest bit relieved.
Watching his son for a moment, Johnston changed his mind, and poured a splash more into each of their glasses. This time he handed Jake's to him, then held his own glass up. Jake hesitated, but finally clinked his glass with his father's. "To fatherhood," Johnston declared.
"Fatherhood?"
"Yeah," Johnston confirmed, looking Jake in the eye. "Fatherhood is harder. But, that's a speech I'll save for another day."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sunday, October 21, five years before the bombs
As soon as she opened her front door to him, Jake pressed himself against Heather, kissing her thoroughly. Greeting her with a breathless "Hey," and a slightly rakish grin was a definite afterthought.
"Hey," Heather returned, with a wide smile and a quiet giggle. "Wow," she murmured, placing her hands against his chest and then raising herself on tiptoe to brush her lips lightly over his. "How are you?" she asked, lacing their fingers together and leading him a few steps into the house.
"Now that I'm here with you, I'm fine," he assured her, squeezing her fingers. "I missed you. C'm'ere," Jake demanded softly. Heather, more than willing to do as he asked, insinuated herself into his embrace. He kissed her again, cupping her head with his hands, and then skimming them over her shoulders, her back, her hips, compelled to touch her. "I'm gonna miss you so much," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.
Heather frowned at the reminder that Jake would be leaving for Denver in a few hours. "I'll miss you, too," she told him. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with all my suddenly free time," she tried to joke, but it didn't work, and her frown returned.
"Let's not go tonight," Jake suggested. Heather was still wrapped in his arms, and he tried to get her to move forward, farther into the house, but their legs got tangled together and they had to pull apart to keep from falling over.
Heather, chuckling softly at their predicament, shook her head. "We have to go tonight," she told Jake. "Your Mom already asked me today what I wanted for dinner, and she also told me how much they were looking forward to getting to know me better. Can't disappoint her now," Heather reasoned.
"My Mom called you today?" Jake asked, pulling back to study her face. He was not entirely surprised. His mother was, he knew, quite interested in learning more about Heather, and Gail Green was nothing if not resourceful; she undoubtedly knew exactly who Heather's landlord was, and he didn't think she was above using her position as the mayor's wife in order to garner Heather's phone number.
"Nah," Heather replied, shrugging. "I decided to go to church this morning, and since there isn't a Catholic Church in Jericho, I just went to the one on Main Street. Your grandfather spotted me as soon as I walked in, and insisted I sit with him and your parents."
Jake's expression was the slightest bit stunned, and Heather couldn't help but giggle softly at him. "He didn't tell me that when he got home," Jake grumbled.
"Well, he told me that you were being a slugabed," Heather informed Jake, her tone teasing. She led him to the couch in her living room. "I'm actually glad I ran into them," she continued as they seated themselves, Jake automatically wrapping his arms around Heather. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, and looked up at him. "There's enough that's different between a Catholic and a Protestant service that I didn't completely know what I was supposed to do," she explained. "But Gramps took care of me."
"Good," Jake nodded, expelling a relieved breath. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head. "I just - I don't know."
"Jake, there's absolutely nothing scary about your family," she told him, smiling at him. "Don't even think they're somehow gonna run me off. Besides, in the family department, I've got you beat by a mile," Heather joked. "I've got four brothers - thankfully fourteen hundred miles away, but still." She mock-shuddered, and Jake chuckled, tightening the arm he had around her. "Frankly, that you know that and are still here, it's very impressive."
"I think I can handle four brothers fourteen hundred miles away," Jake assured her, playing with her hair absently. "For you, I could handle four brothers fourteen miles away," he teased.
She laughed. "Well, don't worry, that's not gonna happen. I can't see any of my sisters-in-law willingly moving to Kansas. I love 'em all, but yeah," Heather murmured, twisting in Jake's arms so she could press a soft kiss to his mouth. "We really do have to go to dinner," she whispered against his lips a few seconds later.
He groaned. "Are you sure?" Jake asked, the slightest hint of a whine tingeing his voice.
"Yes!" Heather declared, grinning at him, their faces so close together that their noses almost touched. "I've psyched myself up for your mother's inquisition. She's a very nice person, but I have no doubt that she's quite particular about the kinda girl she wants you bringing home." Her tone was mostly teasing, though Jake detected a hint of apprehension. "I ready, so we're not puttin' this off."
"My Mom's gonna end up adoring you," Jake told Heather, kissing the tip of her nose. He leaned back against the couch, shaking his head. "And then she's gonna be wondering why the hell you're hanging around with me."
"I don't think so," she sighed, resting her hand on his cheek. "There's a good chance she'll like me," Heather conceded as he turned his head, pressing his mouth to her palm, sending a delicious shiver up her spine. "I'm one of those people that parents always like. But, I'm betting that she still has some pretty high standards of approval," she finished, pushing her hand into his hair.
Jake nodded. His mother, like all mothers, had always wanted the best of everything for him and his brother. As far as he was concerned, Heather Lisinski fit that bill in every way possible. Jake just didn't know how to tell her that, not so that she'd listen anyway. He settled for kissing her again, instead; always the best option in his opinion.
"We really should go, Jake," Heather murmured, her lips against his jaw, a minute or so later. "Please? Okay?" she asked, pulling away from him, her expression somewhat uncertain.
"Okay," he agreed, expelling a deep breath. They disentangled themselves completely, Jake standing first and then offering his hand to Heather to help her up. "What's for dinner?" he asked.
"Meatloaf and mashed potatoes," she answered. "Seemed safer than spaghetti or spareribs, which were the other choices." Heather smiled at Jake. "I think I disappointed your Dad by not going for the spareribs."
"He'll get over it as soon as he realizes that there'll be leftovers if she makes 'em for just the two of them," Jake predicted.
"Good point," Heather agreed, retrieving her purse and coat. She grabbed her keys off the hook next to the hall closet, and then led Jake by the hand out the door.
They had made it five steps down the walk when Heather tried to pull away from Jake. He held tight to her hand. "Where'r you going?"
"My car," she answered, trying to tug her hand loose from his, but Jake tightened his grip. "I'm gonna follow you over," Heather informed him.
"What? Why?" he demanded. "C'mon," he said, starting to turn toward his own car, parked at the curb. "It's two minutes away."
Heather stood her ground, shaking her head. "Jake, you need to go to Denver," she reminded.
"I'm going to go to Denver."
"Yeah," she agreed with a nod, taking two small steps closer. "But, if I ride over with you, then you'll have to bring me back, and then it'll be eleven o'clock before you leave for Denver."
"Sounds 'bout right," he agreed, moving towards her so that they stood toe to toe.
She allowed an exasperated sigh. "If you leave here at eleven, you won't get to Denver until nearly three in the morning," Heather argued. "And, that's if you get there at all," she added, momentarily distracted by the way Jake was rubbing his thumb in slow circles over the back of her hand. "I want you to come back in one piece, not get splattered all over I-70 'cause you fell asleep at the wheel, and some narcoleptic, maniacal truck driver, tryin' to make up time hits you head on."
"Narcoleptic and maniacal?" Jake repeated, chuckling. "Babe, I don't think I'm that unlucky," he assured her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear with his free hand. "I know I'm not that unlucky," he insisted.
"Well, that's the extreme situation," Heather acknowledged, trying to keep her expression serious, though in the end she gave into a quiet giggle. "But, still. I'd rather you got there at a decent hour. I want to know you're safe."
She could tell by his expression that Jake didn't really agree with her reasoning, but finally, frowning slightly, he conceded with a nod. "Fine," he muttered, "We'll do this your way."
He walked her over to her car, opening her door for her, and then handing her in, but only after planting a soft, slow kiss on her mouth. "Thank you," Heather murmured, looking up at him.
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. He touched the side of her face, and then took a step back, his hand resting on the door frame. "You're welcome," he said, closing car door.
* * * * *
Jericho was a small town, and it turned out that Heather lived only five blocks from Jake's parents. It took them less than a minute to drive there, Heather following Jake, and then parking behind him at the curb when he pulled off the street in front of a comfortable looking, two-story craftsman house. She waited for him in her car, fighting the sudden nervous feeling that had taken up residence in her stomach. This was a big step - though it seemed like she was always taking big steps with Jake - and Heather figured that she was allowed a moment to panic.
Jake opened her door, holding his hand out to her, helping Heather out of the car. She smiled at him, but he wasn't fooled. "It's gonna be okay," he told her. "You're psyched, remember?"
"That I am," Heather agreed, exhaling the breath she'd been holding. She leaned against Jake for a moment, and he wrapped his free arm around her loosely. "I'm okay," she insisted a few seconds later, stepping out of the way so that Jake could close the car door. Breathing deeply, she flashed him a quick grin, and then turned to lock the car. "Ready," Heather decided.
He reached for her hand again, knitting their fingers together. "C'mon," Jake invited with a gentle smile that served to distract Heather from the butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
"This is where you grew up, huh?" Heather asked, taking a closer look at the house as they made their way, somewhat slowly, up the front walk.
"Yep," Jake confirmed. "That's my old bedroom," he added, stopping to point at the last window on the right, at the front of the house. "You'll notice the convenient placement of the tree - for sneaking in and out - plus, right below, the prickly bush that stings like you wouldn't believe when you fall into it."
"The voice of experience?" Heather giggled, glancing sideways at Jake.
"Somethin' like that," he shrugged, tightening his hold on her hand. Jake pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "C'mon," he repeated, leading her the rest of the way up the walk and onto the porch. "I'll protect you," he whispered as they mounted the last step, and the front door flew open.
Surprisingly, it was Jake's grandfather, not his mother, who greeted them. Jake had dropped him off a half hour before, and during the intervening time, Grandpa Green had found himself facing all of Gail's and April's questions about Heather. He was glad for their arrival, though it felt somewhat like he'd be throwing Heather to the wolves. "Come in," Grandpa invited, motioning them into the house.
Heather stepped into the Green house, dropping Jake's hand so she could offer Grandpa Green a quick hug. "Good evening," she declared cheerfully.
"Good evening to you, too, m' dear," Grandpa chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He looked back at his grandson, grinning at Jake's affronted expression as he absconded with Heather, leading her through the entry and into the living room. "I believe you know my son, Johnston," Grandpa began as Johnston Green rose from his seat on the sofa. "And, this is Jake's brother, Eric."
"It's nice to see you again, Mayor Green," Heather greeted, holding her hand out to Johnston. After shaking his hand, she turned to Eric. "And, very nice to meet you."
Jake caught up with his grandfather and Heather just as his mother and sister-in-law came into the living room from the kitchen. Grandpa Green still had his arm around Heather, so Jake had to settle for standing next to her as Grandpa turned her around in order to continue introductions. "You've met Jake's mother, yes?" Grandpa said, "And this is April, Eric's wife."
"Mrs. Green," Heather said, smiling at Gail. "Good to see you." She glanced at April. "And, nice to meet you, April."
"We're very happy that you could join us tonight, Heather," Gail declared. "And now - Eric and Johnston - I need your help in the kitchen."
The two men groaned softly, but followed Gail into the kitchen, Eric protesting that Jake could help too, only to be shushed by his mother. A few minutes later, the food was all on the table, and Gail was shepherding everyone into their seats. An extra leaf had been added to the table, allowing room for Heather to sit between Jake and Grandpa Green on one side. Johnston insisted on saying grace, "For the benefit of those among us who missed church this morning," he informed them all, throwing pointed looks at Jake and Eric. Finally, with the formalities out of the way, they all dug in.
"So, Heather," Gail Green began after their guest had been allowed to eat three bites of her dinner, "How do you like Jericho? You moved here this summer?"
Heather swallowed quickly. "Yes, at the end of July," she answered. "And, I think I finally have my bearings. Jericho is a wonderful town."
"Well, I'm sure you're not going to get any argument from the mayor on that point," Grandpa laughed, patting her on the arm.
"Or from her former mayor," Heather suggested, throwing a grateful grin in his direction. "I really do like living here," she added, looking around the table. "It's different than home, but I'm starting to settle in and enjoy myself."
"Where's home?" Eric asked, before taking a drink.
"Buffalo," she replied. "In New York. Though I have to admit I didn't know there were other places named Buffalo, including in Kansas, until very recently."
"There's a Buffalo, Kansas?" April said, her expression amused. "Where? I've lived in Kansas for more than half of my life, and I've never heard of it."
"I have no idea," Heather laughed. "But the internet says so."
Johnston cleared his throat. "Southeastern part of the state. Two hours east of Wichita. Maybe two, three hundred people."
"No wonder I've never heard of it," April decided, tearing off a piece of her roll and popping it into her mouth. "So, how in the world did you end up in Jericho?"
Heather glanced at Jake quickly, and then faced April across the table, shrugging. "I applied for approximately a bazillion teaching positions, and then accepted the one that was farthest from home." It was the abbreviated version of the tale, but entirely true, and everyone at least chuckled. "As for how I actually got here to Jericho," she continued, "It was a three day trip in a U-Haul truck with my Dad and baby brother, Mikey. It shouldn't really take three days to get from there to here, but my Dad insisted on planning our route around stopping for all meals at Cracker Barrel restaurants. He's addicted to their fried apples."
"I'm rather partial to their chicken salad myself," Gail admitted, smiling.
"Chicken and dumplings," April argued. "And then you drive yourself crazy playing the golf tee game."
Groaning, Heather shook her head. "Don't remind me. I finally just bought one, and then Mikey and I fought over it the rest of the trip. Of course," she grumbled, throwing Jake a somewhat annoyed look, "Jake found it on my bookshelf the other day, and solved it in two tries. Got it down to two the first time, and one the second."
"And you didn't kill him?" April joked. "Now that's showing an incredible amount of restraint. But that's so Jake," she shrugged. "In high school he always had the answers to all the math homework without having to actually write out the problems. Even the teacher hated him. You do realize that it's very annoying when you do that," she told him, rolling her eyes.
"What?" Jake asked, holding up his hands to signal his innocence. "It's just logic and basic spatial relations."
"And, extremely annoying," April repeated, chuckling.
"You two met in high school, then?" Heather asked, smiling at Eric and April. Under the table, Jake reached for her hand, distracting Heather for a second, and earning himself a quick glance and a flash of smile.
"The first time," Eric said, his expression softening when he glanced sideways at his wife. "Then we ran into each other a couple of years ago, in Topeka." He laid his hand over the top of hers. "I was surprised that she remembered me."
April and Eric faced each other, their gazes locking for a long moment while they grinned at one another. Finally, reluctantly, April looked at Heather. "I went to high school in Jericho, but only for my junior year," she explained. "My Mom was hired as the principal, but it didn't take."
"That still burns me up," Gail interjected. "The school board made the wrong decision, and that's all there is to it."
"Hard to fight Coach Bauer, especially when the basketball team makes it to the sectional championships," Johnston reminded with a sigh.
"Well, he had it in for Mom from the start, and he won," April agreed, "But it all worked out." She sighed, explaining to Heather, "We ended up moving back to Topeka. My Mom's a muckety muck with the Department of Education now, and she met my stepfather, who's a great guy. Going to three high schools wasn't exactly fun for me," she shrugged, "But it worked out. And, if nothing else good came of it, at least I recognized Eric Green when he literally tripped in front of me, running through the park."
Eric chuckled, leaning over to kiss April on the temple. "You're not supposed to tell that part. Just say, 'We ran into each other in the park.'"
"I have to tell that part," April claimed, grinning at him. "I see you for the first time in eight years, you fall down at my feet, and I render first aid. It makes me into quite the romantic heroine," she teased. "And, it's not that bad for you," April continued. "You saw me, you lost your head for a moment, and that tree root just popped up out of nowhere. That's a romantic re-meet."
He conceded her point with a sigh, kissing her again. "If you say so."
Heather took advantage of the lull in the conversation to snatch another few bites of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Jake let go of her hand, resting his lightly on her lower thigh so he could draw circles with his index finger on her knee. Heather looked to her right, but decided that Grandpa Green couldn't see what his grandson was up to. She glanced at Gail, sitting at the end of the table to Jake's left; she didn't seem to be aware of Jake's actions either. Heather heaved a sigh of relief.
"You okay?" Jake asked quietly, leaning against her shoulder, while beneath the table, he worked to pull the skirt of her dress up above her knee, and then went back to making his hieroglyphics, now against her bare skin.
"Yes," Heather couldn't help but giggle, her glare fading away as soon as she turned it on him. "Just fine," she assured him, even as she felt a blush begin to bloom on her cheeks.
"You sure?" he persisted. The husky tone of his voice, coupled with the slight roughness of his finger as he traced it lazily over her kneecap, sent a delightful shiver through Heather.
All of this was enough to draw Gail and April's attention, and although neither woman said anything, it was obvious to Heather that she and Jake were being observed. "Very sure," she told Jake, forcing a tight-lipped smile to keep from laughing.
"Eric and April got married just this summer, in June," Gail told Heather, as she stabbed together a forkful of salad.
From the other end of the table, Johnston groaned. "Here I always thought, once we had the wedding, we could stop talking about the wedding," he grumbled good-naturedly.
Gail dismissed her husband's complaint with a wave. "We're not going to talk about the wedding -"
"Unless Heather wants to hear all the gory details," April interjected, laughing.
"I was just explaining, that's all," Gail completed.
Johnston, already involved in a side conversation with his father about an upcoming bow hunting trip they were planning, settled for shaking his head and flashing his wife a knowing grin.
"Congratulations," Heather murmured, offering Eric and April a quick smile. She glanced sideways at Jake, studying him carefully for a moment.
Jake seemed to recognize the question in her expression. "I arrested Jonah Prowse three and half days before their wedding," he told her. He removed his hand from her knee and found hers again, lacing their fingers together, before resting their clasped hands on the table. "Should have waited a day," he joked. "One more day, and even April couldn't have made me be in the wedding."
"You know about Jonah Prowse?" Gail asked Heather quietly, her expression serious. Still, her voice carried down the table, drawing Johnston, Grandpa and Eric's attention from their planning. Around the table, the Greens looked at each other; they were all very aware of the federal court's gag order in the case against Jonah Prowse.
"She does," Jake answered for Heather, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. "I told her."
April, it seemed, was the first to digest this piece of information. "Well, I'll just warn you now, Heather," she grumbled, throwing Jake a mock-glare, "Jake hates wearing a tuxedo."
Heather blushed prettily. "I'll take that under advisement," she chuckled uneasily.
"What? I don't like renting clothes," Jake shrugged, squeezing Heather's hand. "It's why I don't go bowling, either."
"You gonna come with us next weekend, Jake?" Eric asked then, gesturing at their father and grandfather. "We won't make you rent anything," he joked.
"Maybe," Jake answered. "I don't know how long I'll be in Denver, so I don't know," he added. Jake actually did know that he'd be home on Wednesday night, but as much as he usually enjoyed hunting with his father and grandfather, and even got along well with Eric on those trips, he found that he didn't like the idea of being away from Heather for another two days when he didn't have to be. "We'll see."
"So, Heather," Gail said, smiling warmly. "You said that your father and brother came out with you. Do you just have the one brother?"
She grinned at Jake's mother. "Actually, I have four brothers. Three are older - Andrew, Tommy, and John - and then Mikey, who I'm supposed to call Michael, 'cause I promised him for his birthday, but I keep forgetting."
Eric snickered softly, smirking at his brother. April poked her husband in the side, and he cleared his throat, his expression turning more serious. "No wonder you moved to Kansas," Eric murmured.
"They were a factor," Heather conceded, nodding. "Mikey - Michael - I can manage, but the other three are out of control. I often feel sorry for their wives."
"Well, whatever the reasons, we're all glad you're here," Grandpa declared, the rest of the Greens nodding in agreement.
Jake leaned over, kissing the shell of Heather's ear. "Thank God you're here."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday, October 4, two weeks after the bombs
Johnston and Jake had both just polished off their drinks when Heather came around the corner and stopped in the doorway. "What's goin' on in here?" she asked, her expression curious as she looked back and forth between the two of them. She spotted the whiskey bottle, abandoned on the table and the glasses still clutched in each of their fists. "Ah, I see. Cocktail party," Heather joked, stepping behind Jake's chair and laying her hands on his shoulders.
"This is a bottle of sixteen year old Bushmills' Irish Whiskey," Johnston protested, his slight grin softening his gruff tone. "Hardly a cocktail."
"My apologies," Heather replied, absently rubbing the back Jake's neck with her thumbs. "Didn't mean to insult your manly Irish whiskey."
Johnston watched his son and daughter-in-law for a moment, noting how Jake leaned back into Heather's touch, how just her presence seemed to ease the strain in his expression. 'Canoodling', his own father had always said in reference to Heather and Jake, and the word was apt, though it didn't capture them completely by any means. They were physical with each other, yes, but more importantly they were also still so obviously in love with one another that Johnston was almost embarrassed to be in their presence at this moment. He was definitely the third wheel in his own den.
"Manly's right," Johnston grumbled, his smile growing, still observing them. He'd told Jake to take care of Heather, and he realized that he had no doubt that Jake would. He had no doubt that Heather would take care of Jake, too. "It'll put hair on your chest, darlin'," Johnston added, clearing his throat.
Heather laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Jake's head. "Well, I'm pretty sure I don't need that!" she told Johnston, grinning.
"Probably not," he agreed, winking at her.
"It's my job to bring you both to dinner," she informed them a second later. "And, you have to come now," Heather insisted, "Because I'm absolutely starving."
"Well then," Johnston acknowledged, standing. He held his hand out, accepting Jake's glass. "Dinner it is," he declared, brushing past Heather on his way out of the room, happy to make his escape.
Jake climbed to his feet, moving around the chair and then reaching for Heather, pulling her close. "I love you," he muttered, burying his head in the crook of her neck.
"I love you, too," Heather responded, resting her hand on the back of his head, her fingers combing through his hair. "Everything okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," he assured her, lifting his head.
Heather, getting a better look at him, recognized the stunned, almost confused expression on his face. "Serious discussion?"
He chuckled absently, kissing her on the forehead. "Yeah," Jake sighed. "So my mother can get off my back now."
"I see," she murmured, pressing her own lips to his jaw. "Would you like me to tell her that for you?" Heather teased as they separated, still holding hands.
"Nah. She'll know somehow," Jake assured her. "C'mon, you're starving, remember?" He led her out of the den and down the hall to the dining room where the rest of the family was already gathered for dinner. "Sorry we're late," he apologized, escorting Heather around to the far side of the table, and pulling her chair out for her.
Once they were both seated, Johnston, clearing his throat, addressed them all. "Tonight, given everything that's happened today, I think it'd be appropriate to say grace." Gail, Heather and April nodded their agreement, and then around the table they all joined hands, bowing their heads. "Dear God," Johnston began, "Tonight we are grateful that we are here, together and safe, as a family. We've lost buildings, but no lives, and for that we are thankful. We ask you to be with those who are injured, and with those who have lost homes and livelihoods. We thank you for this meal, and ask that you bless the hands that prepared it. Amen."
Dutifully, they all repeated Johnston's 'Amen'. Sighing, Gail looked around the table, catching the eye of each family member as they passed dishes back and forth, and poured glasses of water for one another. "You know me, I'm always wanting to have the whole family around the table, to have everyone home," she told them, smiling.
"Careful what you wish for," Jake quipped, shaking his head. "You already have April and Eric moved in, and we might not be far behind," he said, spooning creamed corn onto his plate. "Sixteen miles round trip to the ranch is turning out to be a luxury right now," he reminded.
"Well, you know you're always welcome," Gail declared, dishing up her share of the canned peaches. "It'd be like Christmas to have you all here."
Heather swallowed the mouthful of cracker she'd taken, laughing. "Like? That is Christmas," she reminded, starting to cough. Jake patted her on the back.
"Yeah, last year you made us all spend the night Christmas Eve," April added, clarifying for Heather, before taking her first bite of dinner.
"That's right," Jake agreed. "And, it might be Christmas for you," he told his mother, winking at her, "But it might just kill Dad."
"Why do you think it'd bother me?" Johnston asked, flashing them a devilish grin. "I wouldn't be the one sharin' a bathroom with three other adults."
April, Eric, Heather and Jake all groaned, causing Johnston's grin to grow. "If you guys move in, you get the downstairs bathroom," Eric insisted, looking at his brother. "We were here first."
"It's delicious, Gail," April said then, loading up her fork.
"Thanks," Gail murmured. "Though, Heather helped, too."
"That's why it all looks like I cooked it," Heather joked, and they all laughed. Under the table, Jake found her hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Really, all I did was open cans and take direction. But I have to agree, this is a miracle, Gail, given what you had to work with."
"Yeah, who knew that instant potatoes could taste like anything," Eric argued.
"Well, things will get better after we get real food again," Gail assured them.
Except for the sound of cutlery striking against dishes, there was no sound for a long moment as they all devoted themselves to eating the bland meal that had been assembled from those never used packages and cans found in the back of every pantry. "Filet mignon and bleu cheese," Johnston announced, breaking the silence and startling them all. He set his fork down on the edge of his plate, and looked around the table. "Don't pretend you haven't thought about it," he admonished.
Jake was the first to catch on, and the first to respond. "Cheeseburger and French fries," he offered, grinning and glancing at his father, catching his eye. Johnston acknowledged him with his own grin and the slightest of nods.
"Corned beef and cabbage with that spicy mustard," Gail declared next, groaning quietly at the thought. There was such a look of longing on her face that everyone laughed, the stress and worries of the day disappearing from their features, if only for the moment.
"I could go for a slice of Mom's blueberry pie," Eric murmured, earning himself a smile from his mother.
"Fried chicken," April suggested next, a soft smile creeping onto her lips. "With some fresh corn on the cob." She held up a forkful of the creamed corn, and then let it drop back on her plate. "So much better than this," April muttered, sparing her mother-in-law a guilty glance. "No offense."
Gail held up a hand, waving away April's concern. "None taken," she promised. "Well, Heather," she continued, looking at her other daughter-in-law, "What's yours?"
"My list's long," Heather warned.
"Uh-uh," Johnston told her, shaking his head. "Everyone plays."
"Okay," Heather chuckled. "Moo shu pork with extra plum sauce," she began. "And, bananas. I'd kill for a just ripe banana - ooh! With peanut butter." Kitty-corner across the table, April started to laugh, followed by Gail on April's right. Grinning, Heather continued. "Pierogis, especially the ones my grandmother used to make." She looked around, noting that Jake and Johnston were now both laughing silently. "And, pistachio pudding," she completed.
"Honey, if there was any doubt, I think you just settled it," Gail declared, still laughing. "You are definitely pregnant."
"Trust me, she's pregnant," Jake said, smiling softly. He glanced at Heather, catching her eye, and then under the cover of the table, he laid his hand unerringly over the slight swell of their child. "We've got confirmation of that," he added, looking at his mother, and then at April.
"You're - you're pregnant? For real?" Eric questioned, his forehead wrinkled with confusion.
Heather looked around the table, her gaze settling finally on Eric. "Yeah," she confirmed. "I thought that you knew that," she added, a few seconds later, her expression beginning to mimic his. "Didn't you tell him?" Heather asked April.
"Doctor/patient confidentiality," April reminded with a shrug. "You never said that I could."
"And neither of you?" Heather asked, glancing at Gail and Jake. They both shook their heads 'no'.
She looked at Johnston next, but didn't even get to ask her question before he answered her. "When have I ever been the one t' break news like that in this family?" he snorted.
"Eric, I'm sorry," Heather breathed, turning to face her brother-in-law, sitting directly across the table. "I just thought you knew already." She held her hands up, indicating her own bewilderment with the situation. "I mean, we all talk about it."
"What the hell were you thinking, then?" Eric demanded, suddenly and obviously angry. "You're pregnant and you went into a friggin' burning building! How stupid - what were you thinking?"
"Eric!" Johnston and Jake spoke the rebuke simultaneously, Johnston's voice louder, Jake's more threatening. Jake glanced at Heather. She looked stunned, and was biting her lip, no doubt to keep from crying. "This isn't any of your business, Eric," Jake warned him.
"Well, I went in after her, so I think that makes it my business," Eric argued. He arched back in his chair, pushing away from the table. "You can't tell me that you're okay with this, Jake. If my wife -"
"I'm sure we'd all love to hear what you think you'd do if this were April," Jake interrupted, his tone sarcastic. "And, yeah, turns out I am okay with this," he said, reaching again for Heather's hand under the table. He gripped her fingers tightly, continuing. "I know why Heather did what she did, and I may not like that she did it, but I understand it, and above all, it still doesn't involve you."
No one said anything, just watched each other around the table, the awkwardness and tension of the moment reflected on all of their faces. Eric and Jake glared openly at one another. Finally, under the pressure of Gail's insistent gaze, Johnston cleared his throat. "I think most would agree, on the surface of things, there's not a lot that we Green men have in common. But," he sighed, catching first Eric's eye, and then Jake's, "We do share in this: we love strong women." Johnston held up his water glass. "To the strong Green women," he proclaimed.
Again, Jake was the first to respond. He picked up his own glass, and looking in turn at his wife, his mother, and his sister-in-law, toasted them. "To the strong Green women."
All eyes fell on Eric. Begrudgingly, he pulled his chair back up to the table, and retrieved his glass. "To the strong Green women." Eric's still stormy gaze fell on his sister-in-law. "Heather, I apologize," he mumbled. "And, congratulations, on the baby."
"Thank you," she nodded after a moment, squeezing Jake's hand, hoping to telegraph to him that she was okay.
"Well," Gail said, expelling a deep breath, "I'm sure I saw two, maybe three, boxes of instant pistachio pudding in the back of the pantry earlier." She smiled at Heather. "As of this moment, they have your name on them."
"Thanks," Heather murmured quietly.
"And, you know," Gail added, "I think I need to amend my list. Chocolate cake," she declared. "Chocolate cake with whipped cream."
"Nah, peanut butter pie," Jake interjected.
"Peach cobbler," Johnston suggested.
"Peach cobbler with homemade vanilla ice cream," April offered, earning a wide grin from her father-in-law.
"Blueberry pie," Eric said softly, repeating his earlier selection.
"Gail's blueberry pie is good," Heather agreed, "But, I still want my pudding!"
The friction hadn't completely dissipated from the room, but they all laughed at Heather's declaration, and then began talking all at once, each one arguing the merits of his or her favorite dessert. This continued for a few moments until there was a perfunctory knock at the front door, and then Stanley Richmond slipped inside.
"Excuse me," he called out, "But, they're getting a feed at Bailey's."
Jake and Johnston were both up and out of their seats immediately, Johnston moving across the room. "Let's turn on the TV," he ordered.
"Nah," Stanley contradicted, shaking his head. "They're the only ones pickin' it up. I think it's a satellite feed from DC."
"C'mon," Jake urged Heather, holding his hand out to her. "Mom," he continued, looking at Gail. "We need to go."
Abandoning their meager dinner, the Green women pushed back from the table, Gail and Heather following Jake and Johnston into the hall to retrieve coats from the closet. Eric, however, was still seated.
"You're coming, aren't you?" April asked, looking back at him, ready to follow the rest of the family.
Eric looked startled by the question, but he nodded, scrambling to his feet. "Yeah," he agreed, blowing out the candle, still burning in the middle of the table. "Of course."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Like Heather's Dad, I have planned a trip around eating at Cracker Barrel Restaurants. My own Dad, however, is all about the fried okra.
Link to the golf tee game: http://shop.crackerbarrel.com/online/shopping/Product.asp?cat%5Fid=4&sku=606154&mscssid=Q7QUX9EK5PEW9HP38E4NAFHCQGB572AE