Different Circumstances: Part 9D of ?
by Marzee Doats
Author's Note: This part is really all about April. Jake and Heather are definitely here, but ultimately this was April's chance to tell her story. I always thought it was weird that April didn't have family. Now, I realize that is probably just TV production budgets and a secondary character, but that also left her largely without a background, and I do abhor a backgroundless character! I've filled a lot in here, and I hope you will all indulge me as I offer one explanation of April, and April with Eric.
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Sunday, November 11, five years before the bombs
It was nearly seven o'clock when Jake pulled his car to a stop in front of his parents' house. They had had a great time at Dolly Doolittle's - better than he'd anticipated when Heather had accepted the Doolittles' invitation to join them - and afterwards they had enjoyed a leisurely walk back to the airport, Heather stopping a number of times to take pictures of the diner's signs. The flight home to Jericho had been uneventful. Jake had teased Heather, telling her that she should feel free to read, but she'd only shaken her head, laughing at him. By that time it had already been growing dark, and so they'd spent the trip back much as they had spent the one out, talking about nothing in particular, content in each other's company.
"We really don't have to go in," he told Heather, turning the engine off. "I can always call and say we're too tired," Jake assured her, smiling at her softly. They were already an hour late for dinner, and he'd caught her stifling a yawn more than once since they'd landed at Jericho Airfield. "They'd understand," he said, studying her carefully in the light thrown off by the streetlamp.
"I like dinner with your family," Heather reminded, returning his smile. "Having dinner with your family reminds me of having dinner with my family," she admitted, covering her mouth when she yawned again. "I'll be fine if I have something to drink and eat," she promised, chuckling softly. "That always perks me right up."
"Okay," Jake agreed, leaning over to kiss Heather.
The front door was unlocked and the hall light was on, but surprisingly, the living and dining rooms were deserted. Her hand in his, Jake guided Heather through the house and into the kitchen. From there, they could see that the backyard was ablaze in the light cast by tiki torches and strings of white lights. They left everything they'd brought in - Heather's backpack and a small cardboard box containing two pies from Dolly's - on the kitchen table and then Jake led her to the backdoor. "This is weird," he muttered, opening the door. They stepped outside, and he called out, "Hello!"
"There you two are," Gail declared, standing up from the picnic table and crossing the patio to meet them at the bottom of the porch steps. "We were starting to worry," she sighed, hugging Jake and then Heather.
"It's a two and a half hour flight," Jake reminded his mother. "You knew we'd be late." Still holding onto Heather's hand, he looked around the backyard, greeting everyone else. April was sitting sideways on a bench at the picnic table, and Grandpa Green, Johnston, and Eric were clustered around the grill, Grandpa and Eric both giving advice which Johnston ignored.
"Hey, Jake," Eric called back, raising his beer bottle in acknowledgment.
"We're barbequing tonight," Gail explained unnecessarily. She smiled at Heather and took her arm, pulling her away from Jake and towards the table. "Johnston bought a new grill at the Labor Day sale at Home Depot, and he wanted to get one more use out of it this year."
"I can cook for half the town on this beauty," Johnston added over his shoulder. "We've got hamburgers and chicken going," he told them. "Corn too."
"Just remember to give me a five minute warning so we can pull the rest out of the fridge," Gail replied as she and Heather seated themselves at the picnic table. "Jake," she added, catching her son before he could sit down next to Heather. "Drinks are inside."
Stopping with one knee on the bench, one hand on Heather's shoulder, Jake met his mother's gaze with a questioning look. She smiled at him and then shooed him away with a wave of the hand. April, to Heather's left, chuckled at his affronted expression. "Okay," he muttered, conceding defeat. Squeezing Heather's shoulder, Jake looked to his mother, guessing, "We've probably got a little bit of everything?"
Gail and April each had soda cans in front of them, as well as mugs of something that was giving off steam. April held up her mug, hands wrapped around it for warmth, explaining, "We made hot cider."
"Because it's forty degrees out, and we're barbequing," Gail muttered quietly, rolling her eyes. "There's still some on the stove if you'd like it."
Tilting her head back to look up at Jake, Heather smiled at him. "Any kind of pop sounds good, and the cider sounds great."
"Pop?" April questioned, chuckling.
Heather blushed, but defended herself. "I'm from upstate New York. We say 'pop'."
"Today you were tellin' everyone that you were from Jericho, Kansas," Jake reminded, kissing her gently before finally taking a step back.
"Well, I'm from here, too," she grinned, watching him leave over her shoulder.
"One pop and one apple cider, comin' up," he promised, returning her grin.
Exchanging amused looks with her mother-in-law, April turned her attention to Heather, studying her from behind her mug for a long moment. "Sooo," she crooned, "I'm guessing you two had a nice day?"
"We had a great day," Heather confirmed, smiling widely. "The flight was fun," she continued, shrugging. "Little bit of a new side of Jake, which was interesting," she sighed, not really wanting to say any more on that particular subject. She wrapped her arms around herself then, both to ward off the chill and to, in a way, hold in her memories of the day. "Dolly Doolittle's was absolutely adorable," Heather continued, glancing at Gail. "We brought home a couple of pies for dessert. I mean, if you don't have anything planned already. Please don't feel like -"
"That sounds lovely," Gail assured her, interrupting. "It's very thoughtful, thank you." She smiled at the young woman who seemed to fit in with their family like she'd always been there. More importantly, Gail recognized, Heather obviously cared deeply for Jake, though talking about it with them for too long seemed to make her nervous. Taking pity on this girl who grew dearer to her every time they were together, Gail tried to lighten the subject some. "The trips up to Rock Springs were usually 'boys only', but I've eaten at Dolly's once or twice," she admitted. "Do they still have all the cute signs?"
"Yes!" Heather laughed. "And believe it or not, we had our picture taken in front of the sign at the diner by none other than Dolly Doolittle's husband, Hank." She looked over her shoulder then, calling to Grandpa Green. "Gramps," she grinned at him as he walked toward her. "We're supposed to tell you 'hello' from Dolly and Hank Doolittle. You sold 'em horses," she added after a few seconds has passed and he hadn't responded.
"Probably twenty or more, over the years," Gramps nodded. "Hank Doolittle's a damn good guy," he declared then. "Honest and fair as the day is long. I've always liked dealing with him. And, his Dolly's a sweetheart, and she sure can cook, too. If I could pick my last meal, I'd have to say, I'd want it to be Dolly's Yankee pot roast."
"Huevos Rancheros," Eric argued, wandering over from the grill. He sat down behind April on the bench, putting his arm around her. "That was always my favorite at Dolly's," he clarified, chuckling at April who insisted on having one sip of his beer.
Jake, returning with Heather's drinks and a beer for himself, placed everything on the table in front of her. "Here's your pop," he teased before pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. "I had the chicken fried steak," he added with a glance in his grandfather's direction before seating himself next to Heather. "Still about the best there is."
"The turkey dinner," Johnston argued, turning around, spatula in hand. "Nothin' on this earth beats Dolly's stuffing."
"So, what'd you have, sweetheart?" Grandpa asked, grinning at Heather. He couldn't help but think that she and Jake made quite the picture, cuddled together on the picnic bench.
"Loaded chili with a slab of cornbread," she replied, smiling. "They actually whip the honey into the butter for the cornbread," Heather explained, offering a contented sigh. "That's what sold me on the chili, but then Hank Doolittle dared me to try it, and I always have a hard time saying no to a challenge."
"And finally we have a satisfactory answer to the question 'why is Heather dating Jake?'" Eric joked, grinning at her over the top of April's head.
Everyone laughed at that, though Jake glared at his brother half-heartedly and Gail muttered a scolding, "Really, Eric," before giving into her chuckle.
"The real answer is that I have many, many reasons," Heather assured Eric with a grin. "Though the sheer challenge of it all is in there somewhere," she teased, twisting around to press a quick kiss to Jake's mouth.
Heather started to turn back but he stopped her, cupping her chin and kissing her gently. "She won the bet," he told Eric, though his eyes never left hers. "Hank Doolittle had to buy us lunch, and leave a pretty big tip, 'cause his granddaughter was our waitress."
"You won lunch off of Hank Doolittle?" Grandpa chortled, obviously delighted. "Hot damn! Hank won't cheat ya, but I've never known him to take a losin' bet, either." He grabbed Heather's hand then, dragging her to her feet and pulling her into a bear hug. Placing a smacking kiss on her forehead, Grandpa declared. "Good job, darlin'!"
"Gramps!" Jake grumbled, scrambling to stand up.
Giggling softly, Heather stepped out of Grandpa's embrace and back into Jake's arms. "Thank you. I was pretty proud of myself," she grinned. "Those last four bites, I wasn't sure I was gonna make it," she admitted, twining her fingers with Jake's. Glancing at Gail and then April, Heather explained, "They weren't lying when they said five-alarm on the menu. Really big bowl," she added, letting go of Jake's hand in order to estimate the dish's size with her hands.
"It was impressive," Jake confirmed, kissing Heather's temple.
"Well, congratulations on your win," Gail chuckled, shaking her head. "So, Johnston Green," she continued, glancing at her husband. "Where are we? What are the chances we'll be eating tonight?" she inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.
Turning his head, Johnston met Gail's gaze with an insulted expression. "It's a new grill, takes time to season, get it all adjusted," he defended. "And, it's coming. The chicken's still a little pink though." He looked at Heather, who was once again seated on the picnic bench and wrapped in Jake's arms. "You don't want pink chicken, do you?" he demanded.
"Uh, no," Heather confirmed. "I'm definitely all for cooked food."
"And, what about you, April?" Johnston continued, turning to face his daughter-in-law. "As our resident medical expert -"
"Cook the chicken," she interrupted, laughing.
"Give it up, Johnston," Gail complained. "None of us is going to wrestle anything off your precious grill before it's done."
Eric and Grandpa both tried - rather unsuccessfully - to appear nonchalant as they worked their way back to the barbeque. "Don't even think about it, Eric," Johnston grumbled, a split second before Eric's hand touched the tongs, hanging on the side of the unit. "That goes for you, too, Dad."
"Do me a favor?" Heather asked softly, bringing her hand up to cup the side of Jake's face. "Can you go get my camera?"
"Why?" Jake muttered, his tone suspicious, kissing her ear.
Heather looked down the bench at April, who met her gaze with a smirk and obvious interest. Glancing across the table, she caught Gail's eye. Jake's mother was smiling at them indulgently, her frustration over their dinner's tardiness apparently at bay. Pulling away from Jake just enough to turn her head, Heather smiled sweetly. "You Mom and April want to see the pictures of Dolly Doolittle's and all the signs."
"Especially since I'm the one member of this family who's never been to Dolly Doolittle's," April interjected. She looked at her mother-in-law. "You've been, right?"
"Once or twice, umpteen million years ago," Gail shrugged. "The signs are really quite adorable, and the food is wonderful. Her shepherd's pie was as good as my grandmother's."
April groaned, shaking her head. "I'm booking a ticket on your next trip to Rock Springs," she informed Jake.
"A double date," Heather declared, watching Jake as he tried not to smile at her. "It'll be fun," she added, glancing between him and April. "The four of us can all go."
"Sure," Jake shrugged, trying to draw Heather back into his arms, but she resisted.
Pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then to the corner of his mouth, she reminded, "My camera? Please?"
"So, what do I get outta this deal?" Jake demanded with a put upon sigh.
Their gazes locked for a moment, and then Heather wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a soft, slow kiss to his lips. Finally, she pulled back a few inches, her nose wrinkling adorably as she whispered, "Good enough?"
"Good enough," Jake confirmed, kissing her on the forehead before struggling to his feet.
"You two are incorrigible!" April complained, watching Jake mount the porch steps, an obvious spring in his step. "Eric and I aren't as bad as you two," she continued, rolling her eyes. "And we at least have the 'newlywed' excuse."
"Jealous?" Heather giggled, her eyes widening. Laughing harder, she hid behind her hands for a moment, grateful that there was no way for the Greens to know that she and Jake had been mistaken for newlyweds not once, but twice, that afternoon. She took a calming breath and then called out, "Eric! C'mere! April's feeling neglected," she added, another giggle escaping her. "She needs a big smooch."
Laughing, Eric sauntered toward the table. "Oh, she does, does she?" he asked, stepping behind his wife and dropping his hands on her shoulders. He looked down at April who tilted her head back, pressing it against his stomach, to look up at him. Eric grinned at her wolfishly. "Well if you insist," he teased.
"Heather's idea," April giggled, squirming slightly as Eric's mouth descended upon hers. "Not a bad one though," she admitted with a grin when he raised his head. She found his hand, lacing their fingers together, and pulled him down to sit beside her on the bench.
Smiling, Gail refrained from commenting on their antics. "Heather," she began, drawing the younger woman's attention from Eric and April. "I've been asked to let you know that Miss Sally Anne Taylor was born on Wednesday night. Six pounds, six ounces, nineteen inches long, and home since Friday," she reported. "Johnston and I took a gift over this afternoon, and I have to say she's a little beauty."
"Aww," Heather grinned, "Woody's a big brother!"
"That he is," Gail agreed. "But not completely happy about it, I don't think," she explained, frowning sympathetically. "I think that's why Margaret asked me to tell you. She's hoping you'll come see them, and she thinks Woody would love to see you. From what she said," Gail chuckled, "That little boy has a bit of a crush on you."
"Yeah," Heather laughed, "And the feeling's mutual. I have to admit it," she continued, affecting a mock serious tone, "I've fallen madly in love with a two year old."
At loose ends, Grandpa Green had wandered back toward the house, meeting Jake on the porch steps just as Heather's words reached them from across the yard. He offered his grandson a thoughtful smile. "I was kinda hopin' for a bigger announcement when I heard the beginning of that sentence," he murmured, studying Jake closely.
"Gramps -"
Holding his hands up in a sign of surrender, Grandpa assured, "That's not a push, Jake. Nobody's pushing," he added, grinning to himself as he thought of Gail and her regular protests that she was 'not pushing'. "I'm just gettin' sentimental in my old age," Grandpa chuckled, glad to see the suspicion fade from his grandson's expression. "I'd like to see you settled, Jake, that's all," he sighed. "Not that it'd be 'settling' with Heather," he murmured, glancing back over his shoulder at the subject of their conversation. Facing Jake again, Grandpa smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Just somethin' to keep in the back of your mind."
Lips pressed tightly together, Jake allowed a quick nod. "Sure, Grandpa," he mumbled. He started to move past his grandfather, but then stopped, looking at him sideways. "I - I know all that. Everything you said, and I am thinking about it. Sometimes, it's all I'm thinkin' about," he admitted, watching his feet. "That's all."
"Good," Grandpa grinned. "Very good."
"I like the name Sally," Heather told Gail. "It's old-fashioned, and it goes well with Woody," she added, smiling up at Jake when she felt his hand on her shoulder. He placed her camera in front of her, and then handed her sweater to her, earning himself an even wider smile. "Thank you," she whispered before returning her attention to his mother. "I like the more traditional names," Heather sighed. "So says the girl with the totally seventies name!" she joked, rolling her eyes.
"Your name is a lovely name for a lovely young woman," Gail declared, smiling and then reaching across the table to lay her hand over Heather's, squeezing it before withdrawing.
Along with April and Eric, she watched without commenting as Jake helped Heather slip out of her jacket, and then back into it after she'd pulled her sweater on over her head. "There you go," he said, trailing his hand across Heather's back as he moved around her to take a seat.
Gail exchanged an amused look with April, and then reached for the camera. "So, may I have a look?"
"Oh, yes! Of course!" Heather responded, reluctantly dragging her gaze away from Jake. "Um, the first few pictures are from school - we're doing plant growth experiments. Anyway, the sign pictures are a ways in."
"Sorry to interrupt," Johnston said, clearing his throat, "But, five minute warning. Except," he continued, his expression turning sheepish, "Everything's ready now."
"Johnston!" Gail declared, setting the camera down and throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Okay," she decided, climbing to her feet. "Pull it all off, and everyone else inside," she ordered, releasing an annoyed sigh. "Now!"
Scrambling to their feet, those in the younger generation were forced to muffle their natural inclination towards laughter, not that this was at all difficult once they'd each gotten a good look at Gail. Heather was just pleased that Jake's mother had finally stopped treating her as a guest, and now included her as one of the 'gang'. Three steps from the table, Jake caught her hand in his own, giving it a quick squeeze. "Just do whatever she says," he advised in a whisper, kissing the shell of her ear.
Inside, Gail handed a pile of plates, napkins and cutlery to Eric before moving to the refrigerator to pull out potato and macaroni salads, a relish tray, and every condiment anyone might possibly consider putting on chicken or a burger, distributing these items between April, Heather, Grandpa and Jake. "Buns!" she realized, looking around the kitchen to see what she'd missed. She grabbed the package from the counter and handed them to Heather, giving her a distracted smile.
"Pumpkin!" Grandpa Green crowed happily, looking into one of the pie boxes. He peeked into the other box, guessing, "And, apple?" Heather nodded, and smiling, Grandpa picked up the bowl of potato salad he'd set down on the table. "Well, that will be a treat," he decided, following April out the back door.
"Oh, Jake, honey," Gail sighed, surveying the table. "I forgot the cheese, so if you want it for your burger..."
"I'll get it," he replied, unable to resist the opportunity to brush his fingers over Heather's back as he stepped around her.
"The butter, too," Johnston requested, placing separate plates of hamburger patties and barbequed chicken in the center of the table. "For the corn," he explained, turning back to retrieve it from the grill.
"That is spoiled," April insisted a few seconds later, seating herself on the bench next to Heather who was in the process of making up two hamburger buns. Shaking her head, she groaned. "Seriously."
Frowning, Heather dipped her pinky into the mayonnaise jar and tasted it. "It's fine."
"Not that," April snorted, rolling her eyes. "That," she continued, pointing at one of the hamburger buns. "Mayonnaise and mustard on the bottom bun, and just mustard on the top? Tomato touching only the mustard, never the mayo? That's for Jake," she declared, chuckling. Glancing back at the house, April spotted her brother-in-law coming back toward them. "Speak of the devil," she muttered.
Jake, sliding into his seat beside Heather, spotted the hamburger bun she'd made up for him, and grinned at her. "Thanks, Babe," he told her, reaching for the plate. He speared a hamburger patty with his fork and dropped it on top of the bun before adding a piece of cheese over it. "Just the way I like it," he confirmed quietly, finding her hand beneath the table and squeezing her fingers. April, overhearing this, groaned.
It took a few minutes to get everything passed around, and everyone dished up. It was the sort of hustle and bustle that Heather had grown up in, and that she loved. Once they were all settled, Grandpa Green said grace, and finally they were ready to dig in. "Just one question," Eric said as the rest of the family took their first bites. "It's like forty degrees out here. Why didn't we just take the meat inside instead of hauling all this stuff out here?"
His mother stared at him, open-mouthed, completely incapable of answering, and Johnston's sheepish expression returned. It fell, somehow, to Grandpa to answer. "Ambience, Eric," he explained, patting Gail on the arm. "We wanted some ambience."
"Right," Eric muttered. "Just never knew ambience was quite this bracing," he added, scooting over on the bench to close the two inch gap that separated him from April, hoping to share some of her body heat.
"It's not that cold," Johnston protested. He watched as Jake followed his brother's example and snuggled up to Heather. "It's not!"
"Is this the part where you tell us all about walking five miles to school in the snow, uphill both ways?" Jake joked, drawing chuckles from around the table.
"Eat your dinner," Johnston grumbled, taking a bite of his chicken.
They all followed his edict, falling mostly silent as they all devoted their attention to the meal. Jake and Grandpa had already cleaned their plates and were dishing up seconds for themselves when April slapped the table with her hand. "I've got it!" she declared, looking sideways at Jake and Heather. "Cheyenne Frontier Days. The four of us should go. You can fly us there," she continued, gesturing at Jake, "And, it'll be a great time."
"What's Frontier Days?" Heather asked, setting her finished corn cob down on her plate. "Some sort of historical reenactment?" she guessed.
"Nah," Jake corrected, sitting back on the bench to wrap his arm around her waist. "It's a rodeo. 'The Daddy Of 'Em All'," he quoted.
Heather laughed, throwing April an amused look. "You a big rodeo fan, April?"
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it," April smiled in return. "And, yeah, I happen to like rodeos. My Dad's a large animal vet. Bounced back and forth between the racetrack and the rodeo circuit," she explained, shrugging. "My Mom wouldn't let him take us to the track, which turned out to be a really good call on her part," April snorted. "But she was okay with the rodeo."
She closed her eyes then, shaking her head. "My father," she muttered, turning to face Heather. "You gotta understand, this is the man who called to congratulate me on getting into med school, and then spent most of the rest of the call making sure I understood that getting into med school isn't nearly as hard as getting into vet school." She let out a deep sigh, frowning softly. "And, by the way," she continued. "He really couldn't be of any help financially, but yeah, he was sure proud."
This was obviously not a new story to the Greens, Heather decided, glancing across the table at Johnston, Gail and Grandpa, all of whom wore expressions that were both sympathetic and angry. Jake, his plate of seconds abandoned, had tightened his grip on her, and Eric, she noticed, had also wrapped an arm around April. Heather, not knowing what else to do, forced a wan smile and turned to face the other woman. "April, I -"
"I should know better than to even think about my father, let alone talk about him. Ever," she interrupted, taking a swipe at her watery eyes with the back of her hand. "And, hey, I have a great stepfather, who did help out with medical school. He's wonderful to my Mom, and to my sisters and me," she sighed, "And, I really do still like the rodeo."
"Your father's an idiot," Eric muttered, pressing a series of kisses along her hairline.
"My father's an ass," April corrected with an exasperated chuckle, wiping her eyes again. "And, it really sucks that it still bothers me, because I'm sure none of this bothers him. Probably never has," she murmured. "Okay," she declared a few seconds later, taking a deep breath and the letting it out. She looked around the table, offering them each a shaky smile. "I really do apologize."
Gail reached across the table, over the piles of food which they'd hardly made a dent in despite their hunger, and took one of April's hands into both of her own. "Sweetheart -"
"You know what, Doctor Moneybags," Jake interjected, throwing his mother an apologetic look. "You spring for the hotel rooms - and remember, the prices pretty much quintuple for Frontier Days - and I'll cover flight costs."
This prompted chuckles all around the table, effectively breaking the tension. Gail squeezed April's hand and then let go, leaning back into Johnston's embrace. April, actually allowing a hint of a real smile, shook her head. "Hate to disillusion you, Jake," she sighed, "But I'm about the farthest thing from 'Doctor Moneybags'."
"You're gonna be done with your residency in June, right?" Jake asked, stealing a stray olive off of Heather's plate.
"And opening a Park Street practice in Jericho, Kansas, not a Park Avenue practice in New York City," April reminded, rolling her eyes. "No offense to her mayors, past and present," she added with a glance at Johnston and Grandpa, "But this is Jericho, and here it's pretty much paltry Medicaid reimbursement rates, family farmers on expensive individual policies who go into debt if anything major happens, and the S&A Mining Company health plan, which rumor has it, sucks."
"That's not just a rumor," Grandpa muttered, drawing a protest from Johnston that he waved off. "They're the town's biggest employer, have been for nearly thirty years," he reminded. "They could do a better job of providing benefits to their employees."
Frowning, Jake declared, "This is awful!"
Johnston shook his head, glancing between Jake and his father. "The last thing I'm gonna do is make excuses for Hugh Stevens and Gray Anderson, but it's more complex than all that. They've had to cut hours for most of the employees and -"
"Not the mine, Dad," Jake interrupted. "Eric! Here he was, planning to become a househusband and let April support him in the manner to which he was hoping to become accustomed - at least until it's time for him to run for mayor - and it turns out she can't!"
"Well, you know, househusband's always been my major career goal," Eric returned sarcastically, tightening the arm he had around April.
"Think of all the golf you aren't gonna get to play now," Jake commiserated, almost managing to suppress a snicker. April was actually grinning, and that was all he'd been after initially, but now he was having fun. "Nine holes minimum, every day, at least until you had kids, right?"
Everyone laughed at that, including April. "Who are we kidding?" she asked, twisting around to press a kiss to Eric's jaw. "He'd find a way to take the baby on the golf cart. Just not in the winter or if it's raining," she scolded, waving a finger at him.
"So, I get to be a househusband then?" Eric inquired, affecting a thoughtful expression. "I could really make this work for me," he joked.
"Uh, no," April laughed, shaking her head. "Sorry."
"But, oh! You could volunteer at school," Heather threw in, surprising herself a little. She and Jake had spent three evenings with April and Eric over the preceding two weeks, and while she knew him better now, she wasn't entirely sure they were quite at the mocking level yet. However, April was looking better and Eric was playing along, so Heather decided to push it. "A good 'Room Mom' is worth her - or his - weight in gold," she teased. "I'd love to have you. I've got evil Karen Harper this year."
Eric allowed a sympathetic groan. "Ouch," he muttered.
"At least she didn't get herself elected to the school board," Johnston reminded.
"True," Heather said, acknowledging Jake's father with a relieved sigh and a smile. "But she's still evil," she informed Eric, toying with her fork and the remains of her potato salad. "So, can you make cupcakes?" she inquired brightly. "If you can make cupcakes, you're a shoe-in as Room Mom."
"Sure," he agreed, chuckling and rolling his eyes. "Just add eggs, water and oil to the mix, right?"
"That's all I do," Heather confirmed with a grin. "Really, as long as it's got frosting, there isn't a kid in the world that cares about the cake part."
"Well, that's pretty much all I care about, too," Jake offered, picking up his second ear of corn.
"I know," Heather, Gail and April said in unison, before laughing at themselves.
Sighing, April looked at Jake. "In spite of my reduced circumstances - and the unfortunate need for Eric to keep working - we will pay for hotel rooms in exchange for air transportation to Cheyenne. Deal?" she asked, holding out her hand, which Jake, after setting his corn cob down on his plate, accepted and shook, sealing their bargain.
"So, what exactly do we do at the rodeo?" Heather questioned.
"Watch and cheer for anything born at the Green ranch, of course," Grandpa answered. "Lots of our horses end up at Cheyenne," he boasted. "There's barrel racing, calf roping, steer wrestling, bronc and bull riding."
"Mutton busting," Eric added. "You forgot mutton busting, April's favorite event," he teased, tickling her side and earning himself an elbow in the stomach.
"They don't do mutton busting at Cheyenne," Johnston argued, taking a bite of macaroni salad.
"What's mutton busting?" Heather demanded looking between the men. "And why's it your favorite?" she asked, glancing sideways at April.
"It when they put little kids on sheep, and let 'em go. Like bull riding for six year olds," Jake explained. "The kid that holds on the longest wins a hundred bucks."
April confirmed his description with a nod. "And it's so darn cute," she grinned softly. "You'll love it."
Heather, however, didn't look convinced. "That doesn't sound safe," she frowned. "And, I saw Eight Seconds. Luke Perry was killed bull riding."
"Oh, right," April agreed, wrinkling her nose. "Poor Dylan."
"There's a bit of a difference between a three ton bull and your average ewe," Johnston added. "And, they put bicycle helmets on the kids to keep 'em safe. Besides, I still say they don't do mutton busting at Cheyenne."
"It'll be fun," April argued, reaching for a piece of chicken.
Gail nodded. "And, there's more than just the rodeo," she explained to Heather. "It's like a small state fair. Any carnival food you could possibly want, exhibition halls, all of that."
"That's right," April grinned, "There's shopping at the rodeo." Eric and Jake groaned in unison. "We can do that part without the guys," she chuckled, patting Eric on the arm.
"Hey, you can only buy what you can fit in the plane, and your pilot does not like to fly heavy," Jake warned with a snort.
Giggling, Heather leaned back against Jake, tilting her head to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Well, I'm definitely in. Sounds like fun."
"So, Heather," Eric began, a smirk developing on his face. "I'm betting Jake's never mentioned that he was junior rodeo champion."
Jake groaned, burying his face against Heather's shoulder. "We really don't need to talk about this," he muttered.
"Why not?" Johnston asked. "You were good."
"He was nine to twelve boys' calf roping champ for Fillmore County," Grandpa explained. "In what?" he asked, "Eighty six? Seven?"
"Eighty six," Jake mumbled against Heather's shoulder.
"That's so cool!" she declared, dislodging Jake as she twisted around, smiling at him.
"That's right," April teased, "We didn't get around to those pictures. They're cute," she grinned, remembering and reaching for Heather's camera.
"So were you a mutton buster too?" Heather asked Jake.
"I don't think they had that yet when I was a kid," he replied quickly.
"What are you talkin' about?" Grandpa demanded. "Soon as Jake knew there was a cash prize involved, it was all he could think about."
"I remember that," Gail chuckled. "He was six years old, and he tried practicing with the dog. But Sparky wouldn't stand for it, so he asked me if we could buy a sheep. Or maybe just rent one."
Everyone else laughed, while Jake dropped his head again, pressing his face into Heather's neck, breathing, "Just kill me now," against her skin.
"Aw, it's cute," she giggled softly, running her hand through his hair.
"You say so," Jake muttered, lifting his head and shaking it.
Heather caught his chin in her hand, holding him still so she could place a peck of a kiss on his lips. "I say so."
A natural lull fell over the group then as they all examined their plates and determined what they still had both the room for and the desire to eat. "Speaking of things at the rodeo," Eric said, pushing his plate away. "Bet none of you will ever guess what Jim Bailey was requesting a construction remodel permit for on Friday." He looked around the table, and while everyone appeared interested in the answer, no one offered a guess. Chuckling to himself, Eric explained, "He's putting in a mechanical bull. Apparently, little Mary has been trying to convince him it'll be good for business for months."
"Because mixing alcohol, testosterone, and a mechanical bull is always a good idea," April snorted distractedly, continuing to scroll through the pictures on Heather's camera. "I like the real rodeo, but a mechanical bull at Bailey's is a disaster waiting to happen. I foresee Friday nights full of broken arms and head injuries in my future," she predicted with a sigh.
"Well, we can't deny the permit request because some people are idiots," Johnston shrugged.
"And the Hippocratic Oath does say I have to treat idiots too," she returned.
Gail glanced around the table, taking in the mostly cleaned plates, and the satisfied expressions on everyone's faces. "Shall we take this inside? If you'll get the fire goin', Johnston," she instructed, "We can all thaw out and have some of that pie."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Grandpa agreed, slapping his hands down on the table and pushing himself to his feet.
"Hey," April said, looking up from the camera and back at Eric as he started to get up. "Can you hook this up to the TV so we can see better?" She handed the camera to him for his inspection.
"Sure," he answered after a few seconds, dropping back down on the bench next to her. "I think Mom's got the right cable 'round here somewhere. Why?"
"'Cause I think we all definitely want to see this picture," she declared, turning so she could offer Heather and Jake, both standing, a wicked grin.
"What picture?" Heather demanded, trying to reach over April for her camera. Eric held onto it for a few seconds, letting go only when April shrugged and grinned at him.
Heather forced the camera back into view mode, attempting to study the tiny view screen by the flickering tiki torchlight. She frowned and moved the camera closer to her face, finally able to distinguish something of the last photo Hank Doolittle had snapped. "Oh, no," she mumbled.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thursday, November 2, six weeks after the bombs
Jake retreated to the den. On the way through the house he picked up his grandfather's army manual, hoping to distract himself with it, though he gave up on that idea within the first ten minutes, turning down the lantern Heather had left behind in her haste to get away from him. He was angry and frustrated and tired. Angry at Bill Kilroy, who Jake was sure had told Johnston and Heather an exaggerated and lurid version of the events on the bridge. Angry and frustrated with Heather for not trusting him, for not giving him a chance to explain, for deciding that she couldn't depend on him. Tired - exhausted - after having gone for more than two days on an hour's worth of sleep.
Throwing his head back, Jake closed his eyes, letting go of the book he still held. He heard the front door open and his parents come in. Dhuwalia was with them, and he was drunk, Jake guessed, not only because he kept referring to Gail, loudly, as 'Missus Jake's Mum', but also because he heard Johnston ask, "You're sure this guy saved my life?"
"I'm sure," Gail answered wearily. "Let's get him to the guestroom."
Jake listened without truly paying attention as his parents worked to get Dhuwalia upstairs, thankful for the quiet that descended over the first floor once their task was accomplished. A few minutes later, Gail came back down, going into the living room to check the fire and the dutch oven. She didn't come into the den, and he didn't go out, dreading the questions he knew she would have for him if he did.
April came downstairs just as his mother was going back up. Jake heard Gail fussing over his sister-in-law, and April, her voice scratchy, assuring her that she was fine, and that she just needed something to settle her stomach. Gail offered to make tea, but April declined, saying that she needed to do something for herself, on her own. He listened to her footsteps as she crossed the living and dining rooms, heard the creak of the kitchen door as she went through.
He was dozing when April left the kitchen, and he didn't realize she'd come into the den rather than returning upstairs until she was standing over him, offering him a plate. "Here," she announced gruffly. "Your dinner."
The moonlight filtering in through the window allowed Jake to locate the dish April held out for him, and he accepted it with one hand, reaching for the lantern with the other. "What's this?" he asked, igniting the light.
"A hamburger," April informed him with a shrug. "At least as close as you're gonna get these days."
Balancing the plate on his knee, Jake examined the meager meal, which bore a very passing resemblance to a hamburger. The patty was a small, blackened lump and it was centered on a single heel of homemade bread. He was reminded of the 'Where's the Beef?' commercials of his childhood. Poking it with his index finger, he determined that it was room temperature, but at least had the slightly greasy texture of ground beef. "Thanks," he muttered, glancing up at her. "Where'd you get it?"
"That's what we all had for dinner," April explained, crossing her arms. "Stephanie Hyde dropped a couple of pounds of meat off with Heather this afternoon. You and Derek had something worked out?"
"Right," Jake agreed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Though, I may owe him a horse now," he admitted.
"Hmmm," she acknowledged. "Anyway, there you go," she frowned, starting to turn away.
"Thanks," Jake repeated, prodding his dinner one more time before he picked it up. "You came downstairs just to get me dinner?" he asked, one eyebrow arched in disbelief.
"I came downstairs to get some water and some crackers," April corrected. "And, to bring you your dinner. Heather realized she forgot to tell you it was there -"
"Right," he interrupted, his tone brusque and his jaw clenching automatically. Jake concentrated on folding the heel of bread on the diagonal to improvise a bun for the patty. "Thanks," he grumbled, sounding particularly ungrateful.
April's mouth puckered and irritation flared in her eyes. "Hey, I argued that withholding food might be the way to go. You can't do all the stupid things that occur to you if you're weak from hunger," she told him. "But Heather figures you know how to find food, and there's no reason to let that go to waste," she explained, motioning at Jake's hamburger as he took his first bite. She stared at him, chewing her lip and shaking her head absently. He stared back. "What in the world did you think you were doing?"
"I was helping to protect this town," Jake argued, swallowing hard and dropping the burger, now missing two bites, back on the plate. "I was trying to protect Heather. And you."
"Well that's a perfectly noble, romantic, stupid gesture," April declared, making an exasperated noise. She stepped back toward the couch, seating herself on the other end, watching Jake sideways. "If you'd gotten yourself killed, that would have protected Heather, me, your Mom, exactly until the next armed group comes to town demanding supplies or whatever else. Maybe," she finished with a derisive snort.
Jake turned his head, refusing to meet her eye. "Yeah, well, I've already gotten that lecture - more than once - and I don't need it again," he ground out, shaking his head.
"Okay then," April returned, forcing herself up from the couch. "I guess I'll just be going." She waited a few seconds, not moving toward the door. Jake glanced at her finally, and she exploded. "You're an idiot!" April accused, throwing her hands up in the air. "You're an idiot, and you deserve every -" she broke off, pressing one hand over her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I assume that you're aware that in five months you're going to be a father?" she inquired sarcastically. "And, maybe you can imagine, just a little bit, of what it must be like to be Heather, and hear that your husband - father of your unborn child, which I might add, is actually living inside you - and you hear that your husband has been playing chicken with his life against some psychotic thug. But hey!" she declared, clenching her hands into fists and groaning, "At least he was protecting you!"
Her words hung in the air around him, echoing soundlessly in his ears for a long moment. Leaning forward, Jake buried his head in his hands, muttering, "I'm sorry."
April didn't respond, and when he looked up at her finally, it was obvious that she was fighting for control. Heaving a deep sigh, she moved back to the couch, climbing into the corner and drawing her knees up to her chest. "You probably should try saying that to Heather," she advised quietly.
"I did, actually," Jake replied. He picked up the hamburger and examined it for a few seconds before dropping it back on the plate and then setting it on the cushion next to him. ''Got that part of the lecture from Dad," he added, allowing a frustrated chuckle. "Sorry," he threw out quickly, holding up a hand. "I - It's not - I know I messed up," Jake assured her with a grim smile. "I know that. But she didn't give me a chance to explain, either," he argued a moment later, throwing himself back against the sofa. "Said she couldn't depend on me, needed to be alone. So what do I do with that?" he demanded.
"Try again," April answered. "You try again," she repeated, "Or you give up. Those are the options, right?" she asked with a shrug, resting her chin on her knee.
"Right." Jake's response was clipped, almost sounding as if he'd given it against his will. He shook his head, but didn't say anything else, squelching the urge to further defend himself.
They ended up staring at one another, across the couch, for a long moment until April asked quietly, plaintively, "When did Eric stop trying?"
Jake closed his eyes. He was grateful to be off the topic of Heather and himself, at least for the moment, but Eric and April might be the one subject he was even less inclined to discuss. "I don't know what to tell you," he admitted. "My brother's an idiot."
"Your brother's an ass," April countered with a frown, her eyes flooding with tears that she managed, somehow, to blink back.
"That he is," Jake muttered.
"He knew," she began, her voice cracking. "He knew," April repeated, emphasizing the blame she now assigned to Eric. "He knew that this is what I was afraid of. I - I - The first time he proposed, I said 'no'," she confessed. "Because I was afraid of this."
Jake's expression clearly betrayed his surprise, and he stared at her. "I thought - I thought hospital patio, and half the staff watching?" Eric's proposal to April was family legend, so much so that they had all ribbed Jake that his proposal atop the water tower was an obvious attempt to best his brother, forcing Heather to blushingly confess that she'd told Jake on their 'technical' second date that if he ever wanted to propose, the water tower would be a good choice of location. The Greens had turned their teasing on Heather then, until Gail, taking pity on her embarrassed future daughter-in-law, had claimed that Johnston's marriage proposal, in the denuded Fillmore County Hospital Memorial Rose Garden as the first snow of the season was just beginning to fall, was certainly as good as either of Eric's or Jake's, which had naturally sparked a whole new round of debate.
"That was Eric's second proposal, the one we talk about, the one I didn't turn down," April admitted, pressing her lips together tightly. "I coulda killed him. In front of everybody," she groaned and then took a deep breath. "It was completely embarrassing, but I'd said 'no' before, so it's not like I had any right to be picky. I'd told him - the first time - that I didn't believe in marriage, not after witnessing the train wreck that was my parents', anyway. I didn't want us to end up like them, but here we are," April grumbled, emitting a frustrated chuckle. "He's having an affair with a - with a cocktail waitress, and I'm stuck -" She broke off then, shaking her head and looking away from Jake. "Well, I'm just stuck," she complained, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "If it turns out he's got a secret gambling addiction, then we'll have done a perfect job of recreating my parents' marriage."
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Jake studied his sister-in-law who, apparently deep in thought, stared past him, unseeing. He didn't know what to say to her, and he ended up reaching for his hamburger just to have something to do with his hands. Even the small bite he took caught in his throat, too dry to go down easily. "April," he muttered, swallowing forcefully.
"I thought we'd broken up," she began. Jake slumped slightly, certain she hadn't heard him, unwilling to interrupt her despite his desire to be almost anywhere but in this conversation, at this moment. "I mean, after I said 'no', he took me home and I didn't hear anything from him for a week. I hated it, but I couldn't blame him," she sighed. "I worked a lot that week, and I didn't bother to pick up my mail - didn't bother to do much of anything," April frowned, rubbing her forehead with two fingers. "And, he'd sent me a letter the next day, which basically put the ball into my court, only I didn't know it. God, that letter," she murmured, shivering, and then rubbing her arms to ward off an imaginary chill.
"I phoned my mother - I really didn't know what to do - and she called it a Mr. Darcy move," April remembered, glancing at Jake. "Pride and Prejudice," she told him, spotting his questioning look. "You had to read it in high school, even if you have blocked it out," she assured. "But it wasn't, it was the exact opposite. Eric wrote his letter to convince me we could do it, not to tell me off. He said that we wouldn't be like my parents, we'd be like yours, that we'd use them as our role models. He said he loved me more than anything, and he promised," April declared, and then she repeated herself more loudly. "He promised we'd make it work. That we'd always work at making it work. I married Eric because of that letter," she said, allowing a harsh chuckle.
"This last year, year and a half," she continued, shaking her head in frustration, "Even though all we could seem to do most days was fight, I thought we were both still trying," April snapped, maneuvering herself so that she sat Indian-style. She dragged a throw pillow into her lap, grinding her clenched fists into it. "There were so many times I couldn't see how it was gonna work, I couldn't see a future. But I always remembered that letter."
April paused finally to catch her breath. She seemed to deflate a little, and she grabbed up the throw pillow, cradling it against her chest. "I had divorce papers drawn up," she told Jake, a sob catching in her throat. "But only because we couldn't go on like that. We had to - somebody had to do something."
"Yeah," Jake acknowledged quietly. His head was starting to swim as everything he knew from Eric, and now from April, fell into place. He couldn't help but feel like they'd been torturing one another for months, and he didn't understand how anyone could live like that. He didn't understand how they'd gotten to that, and it horrified him to see that two people who had loved each other so fiercely could end up like his brother and April.
Jake moved his plate to the side table and then slid down the couch so that he was sitting next to April. "C'mere," he murmured, holding his arms open. Surprised, she stared at him for a few seconds before her face crumpled, and she started to cry. She fell into his embrace, sobbing against his shoulder, and grimacing, Jake held her, patting her back, at a complete loss for what else to do or say.
The world was falling apart, Jake couldn't help but think, tightening his grasp. The bombs, Eric and April, his father's illness, the massacre at the hospital and Ravenwood, now marauding across the countryside. Gray Anderson and Jonah Prowse. Everything felt like it was closing in on him and his family, and at the same time tearing them apart. The idea that he and Heather could somehow end up like April and Eric twisted his gut, and he took a deep breath, trying to drive the idea out of his head.
Apologizing, April pushed away, wiping her nose and her eyes on her already damp sleeve "I'm sorry," she croaked self-consciously, retreating into her corner of the couch. "I'm sorry. I don't know -"
"It's okay," Jake muttered, offering a sympathetic frown. "I - You're right. My brother is an ass."
For just a second, sorrow and pain and anger flared again in April's expression, but then she forced it away, grim resolve settling across her features. She shook her head. "You know, I thought - I actually thought - that if I confronted him, if I asked him to move out, or handed him divorce papers that - that it might be a catalyst, you know?" she sniffed, shaking her head. "The kick in the pants we both needed to solve this thing," April sighed. "And if it wasn't, if we couldn't get back what we used to have, then at least we'd tried. We'd both tried. We could've found a way to be - to be amicable." Frowning, April turned away, unable to face Jake. "It never occurred to me that he'd checked out already. It never occurred to me that he'd even look at another woman," she admitted, throwing her hands up. "He's too proper for that, too much of a politician."
"He's a smug, sanctimonious bastard," Jake accused quietly.
"Yeah," April agreed, closing her eyes. She waited a few seconds and then opened them, twisting around to face her brother-in-law. "I love you, Jake," she sighed. "You're my favorite brother. But, Heather's my best friend, and I don't really like men right now," she continued, groaning in exasperation. "I just can't take another disappointment, from another man. So you've got to fix this. You gotta keep tryin'."
"I'm your only brother," he reminded, a ghost of a smile curling his lips. "And, this - with Heather and me - it's a bump in the road, that's all. Not even a bump. It's a blip," he decided, trying to convince himself as much as April. "It'll be okay, we'll be okay," he promised.
Watching Jake closely, April nodded. "Okay," she murmured. "So, I think I'm gonna go to bed," she decided a moment later, stifling a yawn.
"Okay," Jake agreed as she climbed to her feet. "Night, April."
A few steps from the door, she turned around. "You know how, before you get married, everyone - and I mean everyone - tells you 'don't let the sun go down on your anger'?" April asked. "Well, it's corny, for sure, but it's not exactly bad advice."
With that, she was gone and Jake was once again alone in the den with his ranger manual and half-eaten hamburger. The burger he choked down, all the while wondering how something he'd long claimed as a favorite food could be so awful. Then, picking up his book and the lantern, Jake expelled a nervous breath and made his way upstairs.
He knocked lightly at their bedroom door, resisting the urge to try it, afraid to find it locked. Twenty seconds - an eternity - passed, and then he heard, more than saw, the door open. Heather stepped back, holding onto the doorknob with one hand, facing him with a guarded expression. Hefting the lantern, Jake's gaze swept over her. She'd changed into flannel pajama pants and an oversized nightshirt that had a cartoon picture of a chicken in glasses and the words 'chick with brains' written across the front. The nightshirt had been a gag Christmas gift from Heather's brother Michael two or three years before, and Jake had once gotten himself into hot water by referring to it within her hearing as her 'don't come near me' nightwear. The shirt had always been ridiculously big on Heather, and it still was, completely hiding all signs of her pregnancy. "Jake," she murmured in greeting.
"I lied this morning when I said I fell asleep downstairs last night," he told her. "I'm sorry. I - In Rogue River yesterday, at the hospital, Ravenwood had killed everyone there, everyone but Kenchy. And, Eric," Jake continued, setting the lantern on the floor at his feet, "When we were locking up last night, he realized that he'd left his jacket and his driver's license back there. We knew it'd give 'em a destination," he explained, "So I stayed downstairs, waiting. Just doing guard duty," Jake shrugged, frowning softly. "That started to feel real stupid around four, five AM," he admitted with a derisive chuckle. "But that's why I didn't come up last night. And, I'm sorry."
Hugging herself, Heather allowed a cautious nod, her eyes locked with his. "Okay."
"And, when I didn't tell you all that before, it wasn't because I thought you couldn't handle it," Jake continued. "Just - Just, why would you want to know that? I sure as hell didn't want to know any of it," he admitted, shuddering softly. "I didn't want to see all those - all that death." He paused, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. "And, I'm gonna be protective," Jake told her, his lips pressed tightly together. "I love you, and it just comes with the territory. So sorry."
Heather actually cracked a smile at that. "You're really not," she murmured, hugging herself. "Sorry, I mean."
A little surprised and a lot relieved by her overture, Jake didn't manage to respond until he saw her smile start to falter. "Yes. No. You're right," he declared in a rush of breath, reaching toward her but then pulling his hand back, pressing it to his mouth. "Heather," he began again, agonizing seconds later, watching her closely. "I'm not sorry for being protective of you, but I am sorry I hurt you."
"Thank you," she murmured, worrying her lip. Their gazes locked. "But Jake, I need to be a party to the decisions that affect me," Heather told him, frowning softly. "Even if all I can do is worry, I need to know what's going on."
Jake nodded, breaking their stare by glancing down at his feet. "Okay." He looked up and offered her a tentative smile. "Can I - Can I come in?" he asked, clearing his throat nervously.
"Sure," she agreed, taking a step back into the bedroom.
"Thanks," he murmured, picking up the lantern and then following her in. Jake pushed the door closed behind him, and taking a deep breath, turned to face Heather. He was heartened to find that she hadn't retreated from him, but saddened to see how guarded her expression still was. "Heather, I'm not my brother," Jake assured her, taking a deep breath. "I am not going anywhere, and I am in this for the long haul."
"Okay," she acknowledged, pressing her folded hands to her mouth. They continued to stare at one another across the three feet that separated them, neither saying anything. Jake was just about to set the lantern down on the floor, not knowing what else to do, when Heather said, "You're tired."
"Yeah," Jake agreed with a sigh. "Yeah, I am."
"Truce?" Heather offered softly, taking a step toward him, holding out her hand.
Jake practically lunged toward her, finding her hand and gripping it tightly in his. "Truce."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *