The Greens of Jericho

Different Circumstances: Part 13D of ? by Marzee Doats


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Tuesday, December 26, three months after the bombs

"Okay, time to hit the road!" Michael announced, striding into April's office and clapping his hands together, the sound muffled by the gloves he was already wearing along with his parka and a knit cap.  "I'm here to walk you guys home," he informed April and Heather, who had established herself on a folding table she'd sweet talked Drake and Jeff into setting up for her in the already crowded office.  It had been placed against the wall, perpendicular to her sister-in-law's desk. 

"What's the big hurry?" Heather inquired, almost grumpily.  She didn't bother to look up from her notebook, squinting as she tried to study a diagram by the weak light given off by a pair of votive candles.

"Dinner!" her brother declared.  "I'm hungry.  And besides, Jeff's already turned down the generator for the night, per the 'Memorandum Of Understanding' with town hall," Michael snorted, putting air quotes around the phrase.  He rolled his eyes, earning a softly amused smile from April.  The med center could run its generator for six hours each day on fuel provided by the town and held in trust for the common good, as Gray Anderson had reminded them all more than once.  It was an arrangement the mayor had insisted on formalizing in legal paperwork - the infamous Memorandum Of Understanding - which April, as the de facto director of the clinic, had been required to sign.  "It's gonna get real cold in here, real fast," Michael reminded.  "Plus it's snowing -"

"It's snowing?" Heather looked up, rotating in her chair to face her brother.  "Since when?"

"Uh, last couple of hours," he answered.  "Seriously, sis, you need to take a break every once in awhile.  Get up, walk around, look out the window.  It doesn't look like it's going to let up, probably just get worse as the night goes on, so let's go," Michael urged.

Heather frowned, and from behind her April mouthed 'Jake'.

Lips pursed, Michael nodded his acknowledgement. It had been a busy day, and while he'd known that his brother-in-law had gone hunting, at some point it had slipped his mind.  He glanced at his sister, forcing a smile.  "Heather, I bet ya anything that Jake's home - with dinner - waiting for us."

"No," she denied, shaking her head and pushing herself to her feet, "He'd come here to get me if he was back already.  He said he would."

"Well, Jake wouldn't stay out if the weather got bad," April argued, standing up.  She leaned over to blow out the candle on her desk and then moved around to the coat rack to retrieve her scarf and mittens.  The clinic had some heat during the day, but it wasn't warm by any stretch of the imagination, and April, like everyone else, tended to keep her coat on when she wasn't treating patients.  "He'll be home," she assured, winding her scarf around her neck.  "Or we'll run into him on the way," she suggested, "Coming to get you."  Hands on her hips, she turned around to face her sister-in-law, making a show of taping her foot impatiently.  "So come on, already."

"Fine," Heather muttered, closing her notebook and extinguishing the candles on her table.  "Let's go."

Michael pushed the door open, nearly smacking Jeff with it.  "So, you guys ready?" Jeff asked, taking a giant step back.  Drake stood in the middle of the corridor, safely out of the range of all doors, smirking softly.  Jeff rolled his eyes at his friend, declaring, "So, whaddya think?  Soup tonight?"

"No, Jake's gotta be back by now," April countered, falling into step beside Drake as the group started down the hall.  "So think positive.  Venison steaks, rabbit stew, something like that."

"Why do we always have to talk about food!" Drake complained, as they rounded the corner headed to toward the main desk to check out for the evening.  "That's all we talk about, and it just makes me hungrier," he grumbled.

"Poor Drake," April teased, looping her arm through his and then looking back at the other three.  "No more food talk," she ordered, "Drake doesn't like -"

"Stanley?" Heather interrupted, her tone urgent.  "Mimi?"  Quickly, she moved around April and Drake, hurrying toward the dazed and exhausted looking couple standing next to the front desk.  "Where's - where's Jake?"

Mimi seemed to be holding Stanley up, and they both looked very much the worse for wear.  He favored one leg, shivering almost uncontrollably, his expression pained.  "Heather," he exhaled shakily, closing his eyes.  Taking a deep breath, Stanley let go of Mimi's arm, his attention focused on his friend's wife.  "He's - he's gonna be okay," Stanley insisted, taking an unsteady step toward Heather, his leg almost buckling beneath him.  "Okay?" he asked, gritting his teeth against the throbbing of his ankle.  "It's just that there was an - an accident."

"An accident?"  Heather frowned, her forehead wrinkling.  "What?" she questioned, pressing both hands protectively over the baby she carried.  "What d' - what do you mean?" she continued, trepidation coloring her tone.  "Where's Jake?"
 
"There was an accident," Mimi repeated, answering for Stanley.  Moving next to him, she wrapped one arm around his waist, drawing his arm around her shoulders with her free hand.  "More like a mugging," she admitted sourly.  "There was this - this black truck and it - they ran us off the road."

"But where's Jake?!" Heather demanded, giving into her growing sense of panic.  Eyes wide with fright, she grasped blindly for her brother's hand, clutching it tightly.  "Stanley, where's Jake?" she repeated, croaking.

"He's - Mayor Green's with him, Heather," Stanley offered, grimacing.  "The truck flipped, and the Mayor and Mrs. G came looking for us on account of the snow -"

"Jake's leg," Mimi interjected softly, taking over the story.  "The truck, when it flipped over, his leg was trapped underneath."  Heather sagged against her brother as did Stanley against Mimi.  "We think -" she cut herself off, correcting her statement.  "We know - we know his leg is fine.  It's fine," she assured quickly, "Just stuck.  Look," she continued, obviously struggling to keep Stanley upright.  "He needs to sit down.  He sprained his ankle, maybe worse."

"I'm fine," Stanley protested, watching Heather, who had turned white as a sheet and, fist pressed to her mouth, was now making soft, scared noises.  "Heather, he's gonna be fine, I promise."

Jeff moved immediately to Stanley's side, taking his arm.  "Let's just get you over to this gurney," he directed, leading the other man and Mimi about ten feet down the hall. 

Drake moved to assist Michael with Heather, and in the end they forced her to sit next to Stanley on the gurney.  "Mrs. G's across the street," Stanley informed them, "Getting help from the guys at the fire station.  They're - they're gonna hafta dig him out, and then they'll bring him here."

"You're sure?" Heather asked, clutching Stanley's arm.

"You hurt your ankle?" Jeff questioned, squatting down to examine the limb.  "You're shaking, too," he observed, looking up at his patient.  "Cold?"

"Yeah," Stanley acknowledged with a frown, "Freezing."  Wrapping his arms around himself, he glanced between Heather and Jeff, explaining, "The robbers - marauders - assholes - whatever you call 'em - they stole our coats along with everything else we had.  Guess we're lucky they didn't take our clothes, too," he grumbled.

"Road gangs," Michael scowled, shaking his head.  "That's what most people we met call 'em, and that's what they were sayin' at Black Jack."

'"They stole your coat?  They stole Jake - Jake's coat?" Heather asked, her voice hitching as she fought the tears that were evident in her suddenly bright eyes.  "But it's snowing!" she protested.  Michael was hovering close by and she grasped his arm, starting to climb down from the gurney. "I need to go with Gail -"

"Okay, no way that's actually going to happen," her brother interrupted.  April, Jeff and Drake quickly chimed in with their own objections.  "And anyway, it makes no sense for you to go out there, Heth."

"Mike's right, Heather," Stanley declared, picking up the argument.  "Jake wouldn't want you out there in the cold and everything.  It's snowing!  And, they're gonna bring him right here," he reminded, "You'll see him as soon as he gets here.  And, you know, you're the only one he's gonna be lookin' for," Stanley tried to tease though he couldn't quite keep the worry completely out of his voice.  "Am I right, or am I right?" he asked, clearing his throat and looking to the others for confirmation.

"Well, that's a pretty safe bet," April chuckled softly, stepping around Drake and then Michael so she could squeeze Heather's arm. 

"But I - I can't just stand around here, waiting," Heather protested.  "It's gonna drive me crazy.  And, what if - what if they need my help?"

"You're six months pregnant, sis," Michael argued, "It's not like you can - can dig him out or lift a truck off him."

"And right now, we need to get ready for when they get here," April added.  "Jeff, I think you better go crank up the generator," she said, looking down at the sandy-haired medical student.

Nodding, Jeff pulled Stanley's pant leg back down into place and climbed to his feet.  "Sure thing.  But I have to ask, what about the 'Memorandum Of Understanding'?" he snorted.

April rolled her eyes.  "Screw it. I can handle Gray Anderson, trust me.  Besides, it's always easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission."  She let out a deep breath, deciding, "We'll just run the generator an hour less each day for the rest of the week."  Glancing sideways at Stanley, she promised, "We'll get back to you as soon as we can, okay?"

"Yeah, no problem," he assured.  "I'll just wait right here," Stanley joked, "Where it's warm.  Go get ready for Jake," he ordered, slumping against the wall behind him.  "Though maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for someone to go with Mrs. G and the crew," he suggested, his forehead wrinkling.  "It - uh - it couldn't hurt to have a doctor out there," he added, glancing quickly at Heather, worried they'd have to rehash the argument against her going.  "Just - just to be on -"

"I'll go!" Michael, Jeff and Drake all declared in unison.

"Jeff, you need to get on the generator, and Mikey, we need you here," April argued, her gaze flicking quickly to Heather.  She had a sinking suspicion it was going to take them all to keep the younger woman together until Jake arrived.  Shaking her head, April looked over at the third young man.  "Drake, I guess you're up."

"O - okay," he agreed, eyes wide but nodding vigorously.

"Well, go already!" she ordered, gesturing wildly at the exit with one arm.  "Before they're gone.  Go!  Hurry!"  Drake took off running, pushing through the formerly automatic double doors and disappearing from sight.  "Jeff -"

"I'm on it," he replied, already moving down the corridor while April headed off the other direction, toward Emergency, leaving just Mimi, Stanley, Heather and Michael huddled together in the middle of the corridor.

"Heather, look, why don't you sit down," Stanley requested, patting the spot next to him on the gurney.  "You look like you should sit down."

She glared in return, crossing her arms over her chest.  "Don't tell me to sit down.  I don't need to sit down," she grumbled, "Or be protected - or sheltered.  You don't want me to go?  Why?  What's wrong that you don't want me to know about?" she demanded, her gaze narrowing.

"Nothing," he countered.  The last thing he was going to admit was that Jake had seemed to have given up, and had even told him to tell Heather that he loved her.  Telling her that was a recipe for disaster; no way Heather wouldn't realize what it meant.  No, Jake was going to be just fine, and the fact that his friend had ever doubted it was knowledge Stanley would take to his own grave.  "They're gonna get him out and then he's gonna be here before you know it," he insisted, "And then you'll see for yourself."

"You know, there's a truck on his leg," Mimi interjected, leaning against the gurney.  Stanley immediately snaked an arm around her waist, trying to pull her closer.  "Well, not actually on his leg," she corrected quickly, "But trapping his leg.  And, he's gonna be fine, but it's not a pretty sight."

"Yeah, exactly," Stanley agreed, flashing Mimi a grateful smile before trying what he hoped was a reassuring one on Heather.  "He's gonna be fine.  But you go out there, ya know, and it'd totally spoil that tough guy image you have of him.  And, Jake'd hate that."

"Cowboy Jake," Michael joked, squeezing his sister's hand.  "And, you know Stanley's right.  Jake would hate that.  So," he continued, throwing the other man a grateful look, "I think maybe we can find you a room, get you settled."

"Thanks," Stanley acknowledged, clearing his throat.  "Seriously, Heather," he added, glancing at his best friend's wife.  "He'll be okay.  Better when he sees that you're okay," he sighed.  "And you know he'd be mad as hell if we let you go out in this - the snow and the cold - instead of waiting here, where it's safe and warm.  Gotta keep you and junior safe," Stanley grinned gently, with a nod at her abdomen.  He waited a beat and then added a teasing, "Mama."

"Well, it's not exactly warm," she grumbled, letting out a shaky breath. "But, okay...." Heather continued, rubbing one hand over her belly, "You - you promise me, you're telling the truth?"

Shoving his hands into his vest's pockets, Stanley crossed his fingers and met her piercing gaze with a firm nod.  "Yeah.  Absolutely."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, January 1, five years before the bombs

The back door opened and April and Eric entered, still laughing over whatever they had been talking about on the drive over.  "Happy New Year!" they called out in unison just as April stopped short, forcing Eric to catch her around the waist before he ran into her.  "Heather, what are you doing here?" she demanded, surprise evident in her tone.  "I thought you weren't coming back until next week....?"

Heather was at the kitchen table, slicing a tomato, while her future mother-in-law sat across from her, spreading cream cheese on a tortilla.  Flashing Gail a quick grin, Heather glanced back at the couple.  "Happy New Year!" she greeted before explaining, "And, I just decided to come home early.  Though, actually," she added, giggling quietly, "Jake and I are going back to Buffalo on Thursday."

"Can't make up your mind, huh?" Eric teased, stepping around his wife.  He approached the table, clearly interested in what they were doing.  "Whatcha makin'?"

"Oh, I think Heather's made up her mind just fine," Gail returned with a smile.  "And, we're having a hors d'oeuvre luncheon, so right now we're making pinwheel slices."

"Very classy," April chuckled.  "Ooh!  Mini quiches," she declared happily, spotting the box on the counter.  "Much better than the discount pizza we had at the hospital last night.  We were totally courting salmonella with that."

"Well, at least you were in the right place to get food poisoning," Heather joked.

"Turkey bacon ranch pinwheels?" Eric asked hopefully, stopping next to his mother's chair and reaching toward a bowl of shredded cheese. 

"Stop," she ordered, slapping his hand lightly.  "I'm using that.  If you really can't wait, there's cheese for cheese and crackers in the fridge, and a vegetable tray, too," Gail informed Eric, pointing him toward the refrigerator on the other side of the kitchen.

"Grab both, please," April requested, pressing a kiss to Eric's cheek as she slid past him, taking a chair at the table.  "Worked all night - four multi vehicle accidents involving alcohol," she grumbled.  "So, I got no sleep and now I'm absolutely starving.  Anyway...." April continued, taking a breath and turning in her chair to face Heather, her gaze inquisitive. "You got Jake to agree to go meet your Dad plus all your brothers?  Nice work."

"Yep," Heather nodded, "He's gonna meet 'em."  Smiling, she held up her hand, wiggling the ring on her finger with her thumb.  "And, Dad really wants to meet Jake."

"Oh my God!" April exclaimed.  "You're - you're engaged?" she sputtered, her mouth hanging open.  Reaching for Heather's hand, she tugged it toward her so she could get a better look at the ring her friend was now wearing.  "This isn't a joke, right?  Jake proposed, right?"

"That he did," Heather confirmed, grinning.  "This morning."

"Now, that's a New Year's resolution," Eric joked, peering around the refrigerator door.  "Wow.  Welcome to the family, Heather.  And, congratulations.  I think."

"Eric," Gail and April both scolded.  "This is great news!" April continued, jumping up from her chair and then leaning down to offer Heather a quick hug.  "I can't believe it.  I mean, I figured eventually, but not this soon.  Wow!"  The door from the dining room opened and Baron, followed by Jake, entered.  "You're so sneaky!" April accused, offering her brother-in-law an annoyed scowl. 

"I am?" he questioned, one eyebrow raised.  He moved behind Heather, dropping his hands on her shoulders.  She tipped her head back and he leaned down, brushing his mouth over hers.  "So what am I being accused of, and why?" Jake inquired finally, glancing at April.

"I went shopping with you," she reminded, shaking a finger at him.  "You never said anything!" 

"Sorry," Jake shrugged, his tone and expression anything but apologetic.

April, making a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, glanced down at Heather, who had gone back to slicing tomatoes.  "I do have to say, your earrings look great on you, and I think they're perfect with your ring."  She waited a second, then added, her voice lilting, "Your engagement ring."

Practically beaming, Heather set down her knife and reached up to lay her hand over Jake's, still resting on her shoulder.  "I think so, too," she nodded, her smile growing.  "Thanks."

"You're welcome," April allowed a happy sigh before returning her attention to her brother-in-law.  "I'm just saying, Jake," she grumbled, shaking her head, "You were totally holding out on me."

"Well, next time I propose, I'll be sure to tell you first," he promised his sister-in-law, rolling his eyes.  This earned a strong protest from Heather, which he shrugged off, saying, "Sorry, April.  Guess there won't be a next time."

"There sure better not be," his fiancée threw in for good measure.  Everyone laughed.

"So, what's wrong with your face?" Jake asked a moment later, smirking at Eric, who had returned to the table carrying a vegetable platter and a cheese plate. 

"I'm - I'm growing a beard," Eric admitted, refusing to meet his brother's gaze.  "It's - I just started the day before yesterday so it doesn't quite look right yet."

"Give it a week," Gail advised then, reaching for a handful of tomato slices.  "I'm sure it will be fine by then.  I think a beard will make you look older, more distinguished," she added, quickly placing the tomato slices in a line on the tortilla in front of her before rolling it up.  Glancing up from her task, she offered her daughter-in-law a smile, asking, "But honey, you are okay with this, right?"

"Eric has my permission," April assured with a chuckle.  "I like beards," she continued, snagging a handful carrot sticks off the vegetable platter.  "My grandfather had one, plus I can't imagine Dad without one."

"Yeah," Jake drawled, making a show of peering closely at his brother's face and examining his two day's growth of beard.  "But I'm pretty sure Dad's didn't come in that... patchy," he smirked.

"Patchy?  You wanna talk patchy?" Eric challenged, pointing a celery stick at his brother in accusation.  "Heather, I'm just warnin' ya," he continued, glancing at his future sister-n-law.  "Jake tried to grow a beard about ten years ago and it looked like he had a bad case of mange."

Jake glared at his brother, taking a half step toward him.  "You're not even gon -"

"Boys," Gail reproved, expertly wrapping the pinwheel sandwich in plastic wrap.  "Please!"

Soooo...." April began, rolling her eyes as she quickly moved to change the subject.  "When are you getting married?  And, where?  Any plans yet?"

"We've only been engaged for five hours!" Heather laughed.  She turned sideways in her chair and, reaching for and snagging Jake's hand, tugged him away from Eric.  He let her pull him back, holding fast to her hand as he moved to take the chair next to hers.  "We haven't had time to talk about it yet," she said, "But I'm thinking this summer - July - maybe?"  Heather glanced sideways at Jake, seeking his reaction.  "School will be out, and it just seems like a good time."  Jake frowned softly in response, and she giggled nervously, tightening her grip on his fingers.  "Well, we need to talk about it," she declared, letting out a quick breath. Glancing at April, she flashed her friend a hopeful smile.  "But you will be my matron of honor, right?  Please?  You have to say yes."

"Sure, of course," April laughed, "Love to.  Just as long as we never say the 'matron' part again.  I may be married, but I'm not a matron," she complained, making a face.

Eric, having taken the chair between her and his mother, leaned over to press a kiss to April's cheek.  "Definitely not matronly."

Blushing softly, April shook her head at her husband.  "Eric," she murmured, their eyes locking.  She laid her hand over his, their fingers entwining.  "My - my one request," she sighed, reluctantly tearing her gaze away.

"Jake, really," Gail complained, catching him feeding Baron a slice of cheddar cheese.  "It's not good for him."

"Yeah, okay," he returned before ordering Baron to lie down.  "No more cheese," he added, "Grandma says."  The puppy whined pitifully in response, drawing chuckles from all around the table, but settled almost immediately at Jake's feet.

"Poor puppy," Heather giggled sympathetically.   Beneath the table, Jake was indulging in his habit of drawing on her leg.  'JG + HL,' he traced out, and then, '4EVR'.  She was getting very good at reading his messages and, throwing him a grin, she pressed her hand over his.  "Well, how about we call you 'MOH One'," Heather suggested to April.  "I'm going to ask my cousin Jessica to be 'MOH Two'.  I think she'll meet Stanley's requirement for a good bridesmaid," she chuckled.

"Not dippy, huh?" April teased.  "That's very nice of you."

"Stanley's got a bridesmaid requirement?" Jake questioned, his lips twitching.  "What?"

"When you guys went hunting and we went to dinner and ran into Stanley at Bailey's, we ended up discussing your wedding, and Stanley put in his request for a better bridesmaid to spend the day with than Autumn," April explained, laughing.  "I love my sister but - for Stanley's sake - I really hope your cousin is a better fit."

"You guys were discussing our wedding?  Two months ago?" Jake inquired, his tone teasing.  He raised Heather's hand to his mouth, brushing a kiss across her knuckles as he enjoyed the blush that suffused her cheeks.  "What happened to 'I can't believe you proposed', huh?"

"I wasn't the one saying we were getting married," Heather protested.  "I kept saying that we weren't getting married!"

"Yeah, Heather didn't think you'd ever propose," April confirmed, grinning at the indignant squeak that escaped the bride-to-be.  "But Stanley and I had faith.  We know," she laughed, winking at Jake, "That you know, when you've got a good thing."

He nodded in agreement and, leaning toward Heather, used one finger to tilt her chin up.  "That I do," he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her mouth.  "So, what other wedding advice does Stanley have?" Jake inquired a moment later, his hand dropping from Heather's face as his gaze flicked over his sister-in-law.  He wrapped an arm around Heather's shoulders, snorting, "I mean, besides always avoid conga lines with little old ladies."

"Yeah," Eric snorted.  "That was...disturbing."  He looked at Heather, explaining, "Stanley's cousin Megan's wedding.  Stanley attracted a little fan club.  Only got away when he broke his tooth on a Jordan almond."

"He faked the broken tooth," Gail informed them with a sniff.  

"He did not!" Eric argued, though a beat later, his forehead wrinkling, he added an uncertain, "He did?"

"He did," his mother confirmed, wrapping a second pinwheel roll in plastic.  "Though really, I don't know what Gwen Ramsey was thinking," she grumbled.  "She has a grandson older than Stanley!"

"So, what you're saying is no Jordan almonds, and make sure my great aunts leave Stanley alone," Heather joked.  "I need to start writing this all down.  I'm gonna need a notebook," she laughed.

"I had the best wedding planning journal," April declared with a smile.  "We can order you the same one, and I'll give you mine, too.  There's some useful stuff in there.  And, oh," she giggled, throwing Eric a flirtatious look, "We should loan Jake your Idiot's Guide to Being a Groom."

"Idiot's Guide to Being a Groom?" Heather repeated, obviously not sure if April was trying to put one over on her.  "Are you serious?"

"And on that note, think I'll just go back to the football," Jake decided, starting to climb to his feet.

"No, don't go," Heather protested, tugging on his hand until he sat back down.  "We'll talk about something else," she promised, throwing him a grin and then giving him a kiss.  "There's plenty of time to talk about wedding stuff later.  And, hey," she continued, turning in her chair to face April, "I hear that somebody I know got a house for Christmas!"

Smiling, April threaded her arm through Eric's letting her head rest against his shoulder for a moment.  "Pretty much the best present ever," she assured her friend.  "You have to see it.  How 'bout I take you over after lunch?"

"Well, we're just going to be snacking all afternoon," Gail interjected as she stood up from the table.  "To accommodate the football watchers.  And anyway, these need to chill in the fridge for a bit before I cut them," she informed them, holding up the pinwheel rolls.  She chuckled softly at Eric's disappointed expression.  "Why don't you all go over now, and when you get back you can eat."

Heather and April readily agreed, and Heather glanced at her fiancé, asking, "You want to come with us?  You don't have to."

"No, I'll come," Jake said, not wanting to be separated from her for even the half hour or forty five minutes it would take to tour the new house.  Smiling, he squeezed Heather's hand.  "Let's go."

Five minutes later, the four of them were in Eric's Explorer - boys in front, girls in back - making the quick trip over to Granville Street.  Jake had held onto Heather's hand, intending to follow her into the back seat, but April had turned down his suggestion that she sit up front with a snort.  "So you two can make out back there?" she'd argued, rolling her eyes, "I don't think so."  Heather had leaned out of the SUV, kissed him, and then had pointed him to the front passenger seat while April, still shaking her head, had slipped around him, sliding into the back seat.

April gave Heather the same tour of the house she'd given her mother-in-law the week before, Jake and Eric following along but definitely peripheral to the discussion of paint colors, window treatments and floor coverings.  Laughing, Heather confessed to a bad habit of repainting her bedroom on an almost yearly basis.  "I can roll, cut in, even paint stripes," she admitted, "And I actually have overalls just for painting, so when the times comes, definitely put me to work," she ordered.

"Don't think I won't," April smiled.  "And you, too, Jake," she warned her brother-in-law - who groaned - before leading them into the next room, the bedroom she'd picked to serve, eventually, as a nursery.

"I think it's perfect," Heather told her, blushing softly as Jake moved to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist.  They hadn't discussed children yet, but still she couldn't keep her mind from leaping ahead to some future day when they would be establishing a nursery of their own.  "Everything," Heather added in a rush of breath, her eyes meeting and locking with Jake's.  "The whole house.  It's great."

"We like it," Eric agreed, exchanging a kiss with his wife and taking her hand into his own.  He pulled her toward the door, explaining that they needed to look at something in the master bathroom so he was ready for the contractor he was meeting with on Thursday while she was at work.  The two of them disappeared down the hall and Heather and Jake made their way downstairs to wait for them. 

"So," Jake began, drawing her into his arms once they were in the empty living room.  "Do I need to buy you a house now?" he teased, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear before tracing his thumb over her lower lip.

Laughing and shaking her head 'no', Heather pressed her mouth to Jake's, kissing him as she twined her arms around his neck.  "Nah.  No house.  I think you've given me quite enough for one day," she decided, her fingers finding their way into his hair.  "Jewelry plus a plane ticket....  That's enough for a month - a year."

"Okay, no house," he agreed, untangling her arms from around his neck, though he held onto her hands, lacing their fingers together.  Jake offered her a gentle smile, rubbing his thumb over her engagement ring.  "But you're not gonna make me wait a year before I get to give you a ring to go with this one, right?" he questioned, his voice a low rumble.  "Please?" he murmured, leaning closer to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth before resting his forehead against hers.

"N - no," she stammered softly, turning her head and brushing her lips across his.  Jake let go of her hands, bringing his own up to cup her face, deepening their kiss.  "I know I shouldn't," Heather began moments later when they pulled slowly part.  "I shouldn't just pick a date," she sighed, "Without us discussing it -"

"Babe," Jake interrupted, finding her hand as he took a half step back, "If it were all up to me, I say we just elope.  I mean, we're almost gonna be in Niagara Falls," he teased, "And, that's what you do there, right?" 

Heather's eyes widened, a nervous giggle escaping her.  "Uh, yeah.  I guess so.  But it's really more the - the honeymoon capital of the northeast," she explained, biting her lip.  "And Jake, my father -"

"I know, trust me," he answered, cringing.  At the top of his priority list, right after and as a part of making Heather happy, was to avoid further antagonizing his future father-in-law.  "I was just - just joking," he shrugged, squeezing her fingers.  "And besides, I don't think that's what you want either."  Jake paused, hesitating for just a second before telling Heather, "So, I guess I'm voting for sooner rather than later, okay?"

"And July's really not soon enough?" she questioned, frowning softly.  "It would just be easier over summer vacation, to be off and not have to worry about school," Heather explained, stroking his arm with her free hand.  "I've got a week off for spring break in March, so there's then, but I have nearly three months in the summer."

"So July, huh?" he sighed.

"Well, maybe June," Heather suggested, stepping toward him.  She let her hand rest on his chest, clutching the material of his t-shirt.  "Actually, let's just say June," she decided quickly.

"Nah, July," Jake countered, shaking his head.  "But I do have one condition.  You can pretty much plan our wedding, but since you brought up the honeymoon..." he grinned, "I get to plan that, okay?"  Standing there in his brother's new house, he'd remembered thinking about surprising Heather with a trip while they'd toured the house on Christmas Eve, and now he had a pretty good idea where he'd take her.  "Definitely won't be Niagara Falls, and we're definitely gonna need a good chunk of time," he chuckled, leering at her gently and snaking his arms around her waist.

She kissed him softly, smiling and murmuring, "Okay," against his mouth.  "So, where're we going?"

"Uh uh, it's a surprise," he whispered.  Jake nudged her so that she took a step backward, then a second and a third, until he'd maneuvered her against the wall, pinning her arms loosely on either side of her head.  Their gazes locked, and Jake grinned at the surprise in her eyes.  But her expression quickly turned to one of desire, overwhelming him, causing his stomach muscles to clench with anticipation.  He pressed the length of his body against hers, telling her, "You're just gonna have to wait," as his mouth descended hungrily.  They clutched at one another, exchanging kisses and caresses which quickly grew more passionate, and only broke apart, both fighting to catch their breaths, when they heard a floorboard squeak followed by a pair of knowing snickers.

"You know, this is exactly the reason I separated you two in the car," April informed them.  She was standing with Eric at the foot of the stairs, hands on her hips, trying very hard to maintain a cross expression.  "And really, is it too much to ask that we be allowed to christen our own living room?"

"Yeah, what she said," Eric chuckled, draping an arm around his wife.  "Get your own house," he grumbled, teasing.

Heather, though blushing, took their ribbing in stride, and - amazingly - even came up with an almost instantaneous retort.  "Well, don't let us stop you," she giggled, pretending to turn toward the door.

Jake let out a bark of laughter and lunged after her, catching her hand and pulling her back against his side.  Slinging one arm around her shoulders, he held out his hand, smirking at his brother.  "Gimme your car keys and we'll get outta your way," he promised, wiggling his fingers.  "Don't worry, I'll come back for you later.  Say, a half hour?"

"Let's just go," April mumbled, rolling her eyes.  "I'm hungry, I want food."

"Here," Eric said, surprising Jake when he tossed his keys to him.  "You drive."  He grinned at his wife as he turned her toward the door.  "We're gonna sit in the back."

"That's not fair," Heather protested, following behind them with Jake. 

April threw them a triumphant grin over her shoulder.  "Well, it works for me."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, December 26, three months after the bombs

Gail was gone, taking Stanley and Mimi with her, and it was dark.  At first, the bright glare of the truck's headlights as they had swept over them had stayed with Johnston, an echoing imprint on his vision, but now even that was gone.  It was dark and freezing, and although he was right next to Jake, pressed against him, trying to warm him in the only way he could, Johnston could barely make out his son's features.  It had stopped snowing for the moment, but he knew from the way the sky had clouded over that it would start up again soon, and he could only hope that Gail was back before that happened. 

"Jake," he began, practically shouting to be heard over the harsh moan of the wind, "Jake, you'll be home real soon," Johnston promised.  His breath clouded in the cold, dissipating before it had even the chance of warming Jake's frozen face.  Johnston moved closer, leaning over his son, willing him to inhale and then exhale.  He recalled, for probably the first time in three decades, how he'd done the same when his boys were infants.  He remembered how on more than one occasion, he'd awoken in the middle of the night, frightened by a dream, and how he would get out of bed and, careful not to disturb Gail, would creep across the room to their crib.  He'd strained to hear them breathing, and had held his fingers near their mouths until he could feel their soft exhalations against his skin.  He'd checked them for fever, had tucked their blankets closer, and only then, finally reassured that they were safe, had his pounding heart begun to slow some.

Johnston's heart was pounding as he ordered, "But you gotta stay with me now, Jake.  You gotta stay with me."

 "Leave me alone," his son mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes. 

"I'm not going anywhere," he returned stubbornly.  He shook Jake's shoulder, trying to rouse him.  "But you gotta hold on.  Wake up, Jake," Johnston commanded then, "Look at me." 

Slowly - painfully so - Jake's eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused.  His father persevered.  "That's it, that's it," he murmured, squeezing Jake's shoulder in relief.  "You're gonna be a father soon, Son.  You - you hang onto that.  You think about Heather and that baby, and you hold on.  That baby's gonna need his father.  Don't you break our hearts, Jake.  Heather's, your child's, your mother's, and - and mine.  Don't you dare."  The words poured out of him on their own volition, but he couldn't wish them away.  They had their differences, but he loved his son and he'd do anything to keep him here.

For just a second, Jake's gaze locked with his father's and Johnston caught himself holding his breath.  "Hold on," he encouraged, tightening the grip he had on his son's arm.  The wind kicked up and, almost on cue, he felt the icy sting of snowflakes against his already cold skin.  "They'll be here soon," Johnston shouted around the growing lump of worry in his throat.

"I'm sorry."

Jake's words were almost inaudible, and Johnston swallowed a frustrated grunt as he watched his son's eyes fall shut again.  "Son," he prompted instead, shaking Jake again, "You've got nothing to be sorry about."  Jake grimaced and then screwed his face up like he was going to say something, but if he did, it was lost in the howling of the wind.  And once more, he closed his eyes.  Johnston groaned and leaned closer over his son, shielding him as best he could from the weather.  "Open your eyes, Jake.  Look at me," he ordered, slapping him lightly on one cheek.  "Look at me, Jake."

"I - I can see her," Jake said through clenched teeth, focusing for the moment on his father's face. 

"See who?" Johnston asked, frowning softly.  Jake's eyes started to roll back into his head, and he clutched at his son's sweatshirt, jostling him gently.

"The girl," he rasped out, staring at something beyond his father.

"What girl?" Johnston questioned, his confusion and worry growing.  He'd seen men die - never of cold - but he'd seen them slip away while he'd tried to hold them here, to wait for help, and now he was afraid that his son was, in fact, slipping away.  "Jake, I think you're hallucinating, Son."

"Listen to me," Jake commanded.  It seemed to take all his strength to get these words out, and he drew a labored breath, grimacing.  "When I was ... in Iraq," he managed, somehow, to say.  Johnston leaned closer.  "There was a girl ... she couldn't - couldn't have been more than ten or twelve -"

"Ssh, ssh!  Ssh!" Johnston urged, his own eyes closing for a second.  He'd wanted to keep Jake with him, to keep him alert, but he hadn't wanted this.  Whatever had happened, Jake didn't need to relive it now.  His eyes had adjusted to the darkness some, and as he watched his son, Johnston couldn't miss Jake's haunted look.  "Don't talk now, Son," he implored, refusing to hear Jake's last confession.  He was taking his boy home, Johnston vowed to himself, not for the first time.  "Save your energy.  We can talk when you get home."

"I killed her, Dad," Jake choked out, squeezing his eyes tightly closed.  "I killed a little girl."

Johnston felt his heart plummet into his stomach at these words.  He ached for his son, for the burden he carried, so similar to the one he'd borne after his third tour in Vietnam.  He knew if there was any way he could take that pain from Jake, then he would, gladly.  But that was up to Jake.  "It's okay, Son," he comforted, cupping Jake's head with both hands.  "It's okay."

Jake, though, didn't hear him.  He'd passed out and while he was still breathing - of that, Johnston had made sure - he wouldn't rouse.  Two minutes passed, then ten, then twenty, until he finally lost count.  Holding onto his son, hugging his boy to himself, Johnston willed Jake to be okay, to survive, to live.  Chilled through, he could feel himself growing drowsy, and although he tried to fight it, it was getting harder.  Then he heard it:  A vehicle barreling down the road.  Johnston drew his gun.  He knew it was no protection against anyone who would do them harm, but still he would defend his son.  In the next moment though, the headlights flashed, and he breathed a sigh.  It was Gail.

"Hurry up!" he shouted, sitting up and, after re-engaging the safety, tucking his weapon back into the waistband of his jeans.  Johnston struggled to his feet, heaving a sigh of relief.  "Hurry up!" he yelled again as his yellow truck skidded to a stop, the Suburban the fire department was now using as an ambulance among other things, right behind.  Johnston was glad to see Eric jump out of the driver's seat while Gail piled out the other door, making a beeline for her son.  Drake had come too, he realized, looking a little skittish, but striding forward with the firefighters.  "Hurry!" he urged one last time.

"Jake!" Gail yelled, running to her son.  She fell to her knees next to him and leaned over him, calling his name again.  "Jake!  Open your eyes," she demanded, cupping his face with both hands.  "Open your eyes."

"Drake!  Here!" Johnston called waving the younger man over to where Jake lay. 

Taking a steadying breath, Drake turned and jogged toward them.  He'd left the clinic in such a hurry that he hadn't taken so much as a stethoscope with him, but luckily Don - one of the firemen - had handed him an EMT bag on their way to the vehicles.  Now the duffle banged against his thigh as he surveyed the situation.  "Uh, I can check him -"

"He's freezing," Gail interrupted, her head twisting around long enough for her to flash him a reassuring, if distracted, look.  "What he needs most now is to get warm."

"Then we gotta get this truck off him," Eric reminded, squatting to shine his flashlight beneath the vehicle's frame.  "Doesn't look like it punctured the skin or anything.  It's just pinned.  I think we'd be safe as long as we lift and rock it away from him, and it'd be the fastest."

Johnston, who'd knelt next to his son, clapped him on the shoulder, agreeing.  "Yeah, that looks good.  Gail, you're gonna need to pull him clear when we get it off him," he instructed.  "The rest of us are gonna lift.  Paul, over there," he directed, pointing the firefighter to the front bumper.  "Don, Drake, Steve," he continued, handing out assignments.

"All right everyone, on three," Eric said, taking over once they were all in place.  He expelled an anxious breath, and then gripping the truck's frame, began to count.  "One, two, three!"

As one, they all strained to lift and roll the vehicle away from Jake.  They heard more than saw Gail struggle to pull her son loose.  Interminable seconds later Johnston announced, shouting, "All right, he's free!"  The older man immediately let go of the truck, rushing to assist his wife.  "Get that board in here," Johnston demanded, even as Drake and Don were moving the backboard into position.  "Okay, one, two, three," he counted off, and they all worked to lift Jake onto the board, taking care to not injure him any further.

"Okay, let's get him in the Suburban," Don directed as they started to move toward the vehicle, the six men carrying Jake between them.  "Watch the leg," he cautioned, "Carefully."

"I'll - I'll ride with him, get his vitals for April," Drake shouted to Gail.

She hurried along with them, clutching Jake's hand, silently willing him to say something.  He'd opened his eyes finally, had even glared at her as if to say 'leave me alone, Ma!' but he hadn't spoken yet.  Squeezing his frozen fingers, Gail reassured him, "You're gonna be okay, Jake.  We've got you."  Then, she was forced to let go of his hand in order so the men could load him in to the back of the SUV.  "I'm going with him, too," she informed her husband, hugging him quickly.

"He's gonna be okay," Johnston answered, tightening his grip on her for just a second.  He pressed a kiss to her forehead before releasing her from his embrace and then helping her scramble into the Suburban.  "He's gonna be okay," he repeated for himself, slamming the door shut behind her.  Drake was already taking Jake's temperature, and Johnston heaved a sigh of relief.  "Okay, everybody, let's go," he yelled, already jogging behind Eric to his truck.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To be continued in Different Circumstances, Part 13E.


The Idiot's Guide to Being a Groom is actually The Pocket Idiot's Guide to Being a Groom.  (I guess there isn't even enough to it to merit a full size guide!)   http://www.amazon.com/Pocket-Idiots-Guide-Being-Groom/dp/002863649X