Different Circumstances: Part 3A of ? by Marzee Doats
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Thursday, September 21, sixteen hours after the bombs
Jake was the last one into the storm cellar, having shoved Emily in, none too gently, ahead of him. She stumbled down the stairs, retreating into a corner while he worked to get the door pulled shut and secured behind them. He was halfway down the stairs when they all started at a loud clap of thunder followed by the unmistakable whoosh of the downpour beginning to pelt the house and land above.
"What the hell are you doing here, Jake?" It was Bill who asked the question, standing in the middle of the Richmonds' cellar in his underwear and socks. "Aren't you supposed to be off undercover somewhere?"
"I finished up my last assignment," Jake told him tiredly, "Got back to town last night."
"Did they find the bus?" Jimmy asked softly, his eyes wide. "The school bus? Heather's class?" he murmured. "We were all out looking."
Jake nodded. The school bus he could bring himself to think about, because that had turned out okay. It was the salt mine, and the fact that he'd blown up the entrance with Heather on the other side, that caused the giant lump in his throat. "Found the school bus," he assured, his voice gravelly. "It ran off the road when - It ran off the road."
"Yeah," Jimmy agreed. He hadn't been able to bring himself to say the words, not really, and it made him feel better that Jake Green couldn't manage to either. "Everybody okay?"
"The bus driver's dead," Jake explained, starting to sit down on the stairs. He remembered the radio he'd brought along, attached to his back pocket, and yanked it loose. He'd wanted it out of the way while he approached the house, but now it was his lifeline, his only connection to Heather and the rest of his family until the storm passed. "Everyone else is okay," he continued. "Heather broke her leg, and one of the kids was hurt pretty seriously, but the rest, just scrapes and bruises," he reported, turning the radio on and beginning to play with the receiver.
It was dark on the stairs, making it hard to see, and Jake's hands were beginning to shake. He knew he was coming down off the adrenaline rush he'd been on all morning. He bit his lip, willing his body to cooperate. He hadn't had any contact with the salt mine since he'd detonated the explosives, sealing the entrance, and he had to know that they were okay and that his wife was safe.
"You want me to give it a try?" Jimmy offered, motioning at the radio. Jake could tell from the glint of understanding in the other's man's eye that he had noticed the tremors that were now wracking Jake's body, but luckily, none of the others seemed to have observed them. "I'm good with electronics," Jimmy said.
"Sure, thanks," Jake agreed, expelling the breath he'd been holding. He handed the radio to Jimmy, and fell back against the cellar wall, his eyes closed, allowing himself a moment to think. He heard the stair creak, and he opened his eyes in time to see Bill seat himself two steps down.
"Who're you trying to get?" Jimmy asked, holding up the radio.
"Uh, Gray Anderson or Shep Cale, at the mine," Jake murmured, drawing his knees up to his chest. "And, my Dad, Eric, somebody at town hall."
"Sure thing," Jimmy agreed. He turned toward Bonnie, smiling to get her attention, and then asked for a lantern or another light.
Bonnie produced two lanterns and some blankets which she gave to Jimmy and Bill. She didn't offer one to Jake which was a relief. He'd known Bonnie since she was three days old and she'd always been a surrogate little sister to him. Jake wasn't ready to have Bonnie start worrying about him, especially not now when he knew she was worried about Stanley.
Silence reigned over the group for a few minutes. They were all lost in their own thoughts, listening to the suddenly menacing sound of the rain pounding down above. Jake allowed his eyes to slip closed again, leaning his head back against the wall. In his mind's eye, the explosion at the mine played on loop. Jake forced himself to breathe in and out, deeply, trying to calm himself so that he could analyze the situation. The force of the explosion had seemed too large, and he worried that they might have caused the cave-in he'd warned Shep against. Still, it had been necessary to completely seal the entrance. There was no guarantee that using less dynamite would have done that. Jake grumbled at himself under his breath. Second-guessing wasn't going to get him anywhere now. But, what else did he have to do? He'd left Heather in that mine and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it until the rain stopped.
"She's still not talking," Bill mumbled beside him, interrupting Jake's self-abusive reverie. "I get that," Bill continued, staring at Emily, who sat with her back to them, a few feet away. "I mean, I'm a cop. I've never killed anybody. She's a school teacher."
Bonnie jumped up from her chair, having seen Bill talking, though Jake doubted that she could read his lips in the weak light of the storm cellar. She charged across the small space, her focus on him. "Where's Stanley?" she demanded, her tone plaintive. "Jake, my brother doesn't know about the radiation," she added, signing simultaneously.
"When the rain stops, he'll be back," Jake reassured, speaking soothingly although he knew she couldn't hear him. He leaned forward to make sure Bonnie could read his lips, signing the few words he knew. "Don't worry," he comforted. "Bonnie, I know Stanley. He'll be fine."
Bonnie frowned, and started to protest the situation again, but Jimmy interrupted, holding out the radio to Jake. "I've got your brother," he announced. "He's with your Dad."
Taking the radio, Jake nodded his thanks. "Eric, how's Dad?" he questioned, speaking into the microphone.
"He's good," Eric's voice crackled out of the radio's speaker. "The town hall shelter's secure," he reported. "Listen, Jake, where are you?"
'Not where I belong,' Jake wanted to answer, but he refrained. He remembered the scene he had found upon arriving; if he hadn't come out to the Richmond Ranch, Bonnie, Emily, Bill and Jimmy might all have been killed. "I'm at the Richmonds," he answered finally. "Look, as soon as the rain stops, get every digging tool you can find, and get to the mine," he ordered. "I had to blow the entrance to keep the rain out," Jake explained. "Those people have been sealed up way too long. And, I'm more worried the explosion may have put some debris into the ventilator."
"Enough to slow it down?" Eric queried.
"Enough to shut it down," Jake contradicted, his stomach churning at the thought. "We gotta get them out," he said roughly. Jake took a deep breath, steeling himself to make aloud the admission he didn't want to make. "I had to leave Heather there," he whispered, his tone gruff. "At the mine."
"Are you crazy?" Eric barked over the radio.
Jake shook his head, frustrated, wanting nothing more than to scream at his brother. "Look," he managed to grind out, "The escaped prisoners from the bus I saw last night were here. They had Bonnie and Emily. Jimmy and Bill, too." He sighed, the fight gone momentarily out of him. "I wasn't going to bring Heather into that."
The radio went silent for a few seconds, and then Eric reported the news that Jake absolutely didn't want to hear. "We can't reach anyone at the mine," his brother said. "We have no radio contact with anyone there."
Jimmy took back the radio before Jake could drop it. "That doesn't mean anything," he told Jake, forcing him to make eye contact. "I worked there, the summer after high school. Why do you think I became a cop?" he joked weakly. "They're at least forty, fifty feet underground, and if you sealed the entrance? Three or four feet of rock, and then all this rain to interfere? It's not surprising that the signal isn't getting through. It doesn't mean a thing."
"Thanks, Jimmy," Jake muttered, nodding once in acknowledgment.
Jimmy ducked his head in return, but didn't say anything else. He retreated back into the corner of the cellar, pulling the quilt Bonnie had loaned him more tightly around him, and continuing to converse quietly over the radio with Eric at town hall.
Jake settled back on the stair he'd claimed, contemplating Jimmy's statement. He found that he was reassured, hopeful even. He had to be; Jake knew that if anything happened to Heather at the mine, he'd never forgive himself. Jake closed his eyes. He was tired, that was true, but he also wasn't above praying. Jake wasn't religious, not in the way his wife was, or to a lesser extent, his mother, but he respected their convictions and he believed in God. While he wasn't sure God would be interested in anything he might ask for, he also figured that God wouldn't turn down an intercessionary prayer offered on Heather's behalf. 'Just let her be safe. Just keep her safe,' he thought, looking heavenward.
Across the room, Emily sighed, shifting herself on the bench she sat on, drawing Jake's attention. He was still smarting a little from her comment outside, that it wasn't ever safe around him, mostly because it made him doubt again his decision to leave Heather behind at the mine. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and he knew he wouldn't, not until he knew she was okay, not until he held her again.
Bonnie and Emily were conversing quietly, their heads close together so that Bonnie could read Emily's lips. It had been a feat to teach Bonnie how to whisper, and Jake found himself wishing that Stanley and the special education teacher hadn't been so successful. He wasn't above distracting himself by contemplating what they were talking about, but right now he couldn't make anything out.
Jake also wasn't above wondering why Emily was even at the Richmond Ranch. The best that could be said about Emily and Stanley was that they were civil to one another. Jake knew that Emily was Bonnie's English teacher - Jericho High was too small to support two teachers in any subject - but aside from that, there wasn't any reason for Emily to be with Bonnie.
The fact of the matter was, Jake hardly knew Emily anymore. He saw her socially on occasion, mostly at school district-related events that Heather was compelled to attend. Heather and Emily were friendly - more so when he wasn't around than when he was - but not friends. Jericho was a small town so it was inevitable that they would see each other, but Jake had moved on from their disastrous past together, as had she. If he thought of her, it was rarely and the only guilt he still suffered in relation to Emily Sullivan was a slight twinge regarding her brother.
Still, he didn't like to see her looking so lost, so miserable, and he was trying to escape his own head, so the next thing Jake knew, he was up off his stair and moving across the cellar toward her. Bonnie seemed to recognize his intent and vacated the seat she had next to Emily. Jake dropped into the chair, sitting in it backwards. "You doin' all right?" he asked before answering for himself, "Stupid question, right?"
Emily looked up at him, a hint of a glare in her expression. "Right," she muttered.
Jake decided to try a different tact. "What in the world are you doing out here, Em?"
"I was driving to Wichita," she explained dully, when she finally deigned to answer. "Roger was flying in last night."
"Oh." Jake didn't know how else to respond. If he didn't know Emily anymore, he really didn't know anything about her fiancé except that he worked at the bank and drove an expensive car. They'd gotten engaged over Christmas, and Emily had still been showing off her rock of an engagement ring to everyone she met when Jake had seen her last, at Bailey's on Super Bowl Sunday when he and Heather had stopped in for a few minutes before heading out to Stanley's annual party. Heather had mentioned in an email once that Emily seemed actually happy finally, and that she'd moved into Roger's house in Jericho's one exclusive neighborhood, The Pines.
"How do you know the rain's radioactive?" Emily challenged suddenly, her chin sticking out in defiance. "Denver's pretty far away."
Jake at least felt comfortable with this turn in their conversation. "Well, we don't know how many bombs there were," he explained. "We don't know -"
He cut himself off at the first, faint squeak of a floorboard in the house above them. The intruder took another step, and now they were all staring at the ceiling, even Bonnie. "What is it?" she demanded.
"Someone's in the house," Jake muttered, turning to look at Bonnie so she could see his mouth. He pulled himself up out of his chair and grabbed her by the arm, pushing her behind him.
"Not more prisoners," Emily whispered, her voice laced with dread. She moved to Bonnie's other side, ready to help protect the teenager.
Jake started to back up, forcing both women to also step back. Meanwhile, Bill and Jimmy moved into position, watching the cellar door, guns drawn. They all held their breaths, waiting, and then the cellar door creaked open and the intruder took his first step on the stairs. He took a second step, then a third, and at last the cellar door slammed closed behind him. He took one more step, and finally they could see who they were dealing with.
"Stanley!" Bonnie cried out, her relief at her brother's appearance evident.
Stanley jogged down the last three steps, taking in with a glance the occupants of his storm cellar. His eyes landed on his sister. "Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed.
Bonnie tried to get around Jake, to her brother, but he stopped her, grabbing her around the waist. "No, hey! Hey! No!" he shouted, holding up his hand to keep Stanley away. "Uh-uh. Stanley, don't touch her," Jake ordered, his expression grim. "The rain may be radioactive."
Stanley halted immediately, signing and speaking to Bonnie. "It's okay, it's okay," he crooned. "Stay with Jake."
Bonnie stopped struggling against the hold that Jake had on her arm and finally he let go. Emily somehow convinced Bonnie to return to the chair she'd been sitting in, and so Jake was left alone, facing his best friend for the first time in over seven months. "Jimmy, is Eric still on the radio?" he asked, glancing at the deputy. "We need to talk to April."
"I'll get 'em back," Jimmy promised, already working to raise town hall again.
"Jake Green, where'd you come from?" Stanley asked after a few, awkward seconds during which they simply stared at one another. A shadow passed over his face. "Heather -"
"Is fine," Jake told Stanley, praying again that this was true. "Heather is fine," he repeated. "I was on my way home last night, planning to surprise her, got in a wreck, so did the bus," he explained somewhat incoherently. It was a testament to their long friendship that Stanley could follow. "Her leg's broken, but other than that...." Jake trailed off. "She's fine. We were together when we heard Emily's distress call about the escaped prisoners."
Stanley chuckled humorlessly. "Escaped prisoners? That explains the dead guy in my front yard," he muttered.
"Actually, there're two dead guys in your yard," Bill offered.
"Even better," Stanley muttered. A dribble of water ran out of Stanley's hair and down the side of his face. He wiped it away with the already soaked sleeve of his shirt, shivering slightly.
Jake turned to Bonnie. "Do you have another blanket for Stanley?" he asked.
Bonnie frowned, shaking her head 'no'. From the corner, Jimmy volunteered the quilt he'd been using, and his spot at the other end of the cellar. Jake and Stanley exchanged a silent look, both agreeing that this was for the best. Jimmy and Stanley traded places, and Jimmy handed Jake the radio. "Eric's finding April," he reported.
"April, Stanley seems to be okay," Jake called into the radio after his sister-in-law announced herself on the other end. "I'd say he was in it for about twenty minutes." He looked to Stanley for confirmation.
Stanley nodded. He'd stripped off his wet shirt, and now he was wrapped up in the quilt Jimmy had given up. "Yeah, I was out at my cousin's," he explained, clearing his throat. "Helping them put the livestock up. Got caught in it."
"Is he vomiting?" April asked.
"No, he's not," Jake advised, hoping he was giving the right answer.
"Okay," April acknowledged. "Do you have any iodine there?"
Jake turned toward Bonnie, requesting, "Bonnie, iodine?" The teenager moved to the first aid kit mounted on the wall, and began searching.
"Hey, what's with all the tanks?" Stanley inquired while they waited for Bonnie.
On the stairs, Bill sat up straight, staring at Stanley. "What tanks?" he questioned.
"On my way home, I passed a line of tanks," Stanley explained. "They were haulin' ass towards Denver."
A cold feeling ran down Jake's spine. "Stanley, how many tanks did you see?" he demanded.
Stanley shrugged. "Five, maybe?" he guessed.
"Where?"
"They were over the ridge," Stanley answered. He paused, concentrating for a moment, and ended up shaking his head. "I couldn't tell you exactly where they were, but I was on Farsmill Road, near I-70."
Bonnie turned around, holding up a bottle of dark liquid for everyone to see, and then tossed it to Jake, who caught it with his free hand. "April, we have iodine," he announced into the radio.
"He's going to need to take a couple of tablespoons," April replied. "But it tastes vile, so do you have any bread, something that he can take with it?"
Jake began to look around. "We're in the cellar, all we've got is canned peaches and pickles," he told her.
"Not the pickles," April instructed. "Maybe the peaches."
Stanley grimaced, and made a 'gimme' motion, wiggling his fingers. "Jake, just give me the iodine," he demanded.
April was still speaking. "The second that the rain breaks, rush him to the clinic," she directed. "Now, Jake," she sighed. "If he throws up in the next couple of hours, get Bonnie out of that room."
The cold feeling settled in Jake's stomach, causing it to churn again. He wondered for a moment if he was going to be the one to throw up. "Why?" he croaked.
April's grim tone was obvious, even with the increased static on the radio transmission, caused by the storm. "Because," she explained, "Her brother is going to die."
Jake looked at Stanley, making sure he'd heard. From the stubborn set of Stanley's jaw, Jake knew he had. "Okay, April, copy that," he muttered into the radio. "Can you get Dad for me?"
"Sure thing, give me a second," she said.
Jake waited, taking deep breaths again to calm himself. He couldn't believe the nightmare he found himself in. The lives of his wife and his best friend were both in danger and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He looked again at Stanley, who was watching him carefully. "Heather's at the salt mine," he confessed quietly. "I blew it up - the entrance - with her and two hundred other people inside."
"Wow," Stanley murmured. This was a far cry from the 'she's fine' line that Jake had been spouting a few minutes before. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Rescue mission," Jake retorted sourly.
"My knight in shining armor," Stanley shot back.
Before either man could say anything else, the radio in Jake was holding crackled to life again. "Yeah, Son," Johnston Green's voice sounded over the handset. "What is it?"
"Dad, Stanley saw a line of tanks near I-70," he reported.
"Well, you know there's a National Guard unit to the southwest there in Goodland," Johnston reasoned. "Maybe they've got a relief effort going."
Jake wanted to believe his father, but his experience screamed that they couldn't expect such an easy, innocent explanation. "Well, we need to get out there and see," he argued. "After this is all over, after we know everyone's safe," he added, raising his voice. 'After I've seen that Heather's safe with my own two eyes,' he concluded silently, to himself.
"That could be a dangerous thing to do, Son," Johnston cautioned, starting to cough.
Jake had to resist the urge to snort in response. 'What isn't dangerous?' he thought. For years, Jake had come and gone from Jericho, mostly finding danger and intrigue when he was away, mostly finding comfort and a safe haven when he was home. He knew that he had to do whatever he could to keep Jericho safe, for Heather, for his mother, for the kids that had been on that school bus.
"Can't just sit around and wait to find out what's happening," he argued, shaking his head at his father's stubbornness. "I'll ... I'll go to Goodland," he offered. "Someone should check out Topeka."
"Okay, Son," Johnston relented with a sigh.
Jake nodded, satisfied. He handed the radio Jimmy, and started to move back to his spot on the stairs. Emily blocked his way.
"I'm going with you," she announced.
"What?" Jake stared at her, unable to comprehend her words.
"I have to find Roger," she argued, "And, Goodland's on the way to Wichita -"
Jake didn't want to deal with this, with Emily. "You are in no condition -"
"I'm going with you, or I'm going by myself," she declared, crossing her arms defiantly.
"Fine," Jake conceded wearily. "But, I'm not going anywhere until Heather's out of that mine - safe - so don't get ahead of yourself, Em." He grasped her by the shoulders then, moving her so she was out of his path, and returned to his place on the stairs. He was still there five or ten minutes later when Stanley motioned him over.
"Jake," Stanley called quietly. "Don't let Bonnie see your lips," he admonished when his friend joined him on the other side of the cellar. "Listen man," he continued, sitting sideways and shielding his face from his sister's view, "If this thing doesn't turn out so good...." Stanley trailed off, letting the ominous words hand between them for a moment. "Thing is, Bonnie is still just a kid -"
"Stanley!" Jake rebuked. He was devoting all the worrying he could manage to Heather, and he refused to contemplate what Stanley was suggesting. "Don't even," he ordered, gritting his teeth. "All right? You're gonna be fine."
Stanley scowled. "My head is pounding, I feel like I'm gonna throw up."
Jake was saved from having to try and argue to Stanley that, no, he really didn't feel lousy, if only because he wasn't going to allow it, by the sudden, blessed cessation of the rain. Again, they all looked up at the ceiling, but this time they were all starting to smile, and Bonnie didn't insist on knowing what was going on.
Jake grabbed the radio from Jimmy, crowing into it, "Eric! The rain has stopped." He didn't bother to get confirmation that his brother had received the transmission. "Bill, Emily! Get Stanley to the medical clinic now, okay?" he directed. "Find April, she'll know what to do." Jake took a deep breath, turning to face Jimmy. "You're comin' with me to the mine, all right?"
Jimmy nodded, and Bill already had Stanley up and walking toward the stairs, Bonnie trailing after them as close as they would allow. Only Emily wasn't moving to do as he asked.
"Jake," she addressed him. "I meant what I said, all right?"
For a second, Jake saw red. He wanted nothing more than to strangle her, astounded that Emily could manage, at this moment, to be this selfish. "Yeah," Jake snapped. "I know, all right? I know. And, once Heather is safe, I will help you find Roger," he told her, his fists balled against his thighs. "Go!" he commanded.
He turned away then, not caring what she did. Emily could spend the rest of the day in the Richmonds' cellar for all he cared. Jake mounted the stairs, barking at his brother over the radio. "Eric, we're comin' to the mine now," he yelled. "We have to dig those people out."
'I'm comin', babe, hang on,' he added silently, the thoughts he directed at Heather morphing somehow into another prayer. 'Keep her safe,' Jake begged. "Please let her be safe.'
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Saturday, October 13, five years before the bombs
"I thought that was you," Jake greeted Heather, climbing out of his car, parked beside hers, in the small gravel lot provided for customers of the Richmond Ranch produce stand. Actually, he'd known it was her, recognizing her car immediately when they had arrived simultaneously but from opposite directions, at the three-way intersection between Route 40 and the Richmond Ranch road.
"Hey, Jake," she replied, smiling. "I thought it was you, too."
They watched each other for a few seconds, trying to determine where they stood now, literally, in the clear light of day. Jake took a deep breath, walking around his car to the back of hers. "You've got all new tires," he observed, feeling ridiculous even as the words left his mouth.
Heather giggled softly, and Jake found himself thinking how much he enjoyed the sound of it. "Yeah, I splurged," she told him.
"That's splurging?" Jake asked, starting to laugh himself.
"New tires, new shoes," she shrugged. "Same difference, in my book. Though," she admitted, stepping toward him, "I really can't afford to do both in the same month."
Heather was at his elbow now, and Jake confirmed that he was still just as affected by her presence as he had been the night before. He was so concentrated on taking her all in - from her apple scented hair pulled back into a ponytail to the oddly adorable purple laces in her running shoes - that he was only half listening to what she said next.
"I was at Sam's Club, credit card in hand, when they opened this morning. An hour later," Heather declared, "New tires, with a twelve month guarantee. You shouldn't need to rescue me from a blow out for at least a year."
"But, I would," Jake assured, his tone suddenly serious. Heather nodded, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The rest of what she'd said penetrated is brain, and Jake groaned. "You were at Sam's Club when they opened?" he questioned, "In Goodland? Please tell me you're not one of those disgustingly cheerful morning people," he begged.
She laughed again, shaking her head. "Actually, I'm a 'burn the candle at both ends' kinda person," Heather confessed. "Great in the morning, great at night, but barely coherent from noon to four. Not exactly the sort of thing an elementary school teacher should be admitting to," she finished, wrinkling her nose.
"Well, your secret is safe with me," Jake promised.
"I knew it would be," Heather murmured, her expression momentarily unreadable. Jake found himself caught up in her gaze, trying to discern what was running through her head. Her eyes were trusting, but she also exuded an air of apprehension, and Jake guessed that she was feeling somewhat out of her element. She turned away then, opening the trunk of her car to retrieve a canvas bag.
"Here to shop, I see," Jake said, falling in alongside her as Heather started to walk toward the farm stand.
"Yeah," Heather replied, glancing at him sideways. "But I'm really here to pick out a bunny."
"A bunny?"
"Yeah. Bonnie - I assume you know the Richmonds, since you know everybody else in Jericho. Bonnie thinks my class needs a pet," Heather explained. "And, she has some prizewinning rabbits that she won't give away to anyone, so when she offered me one, Stanley said I had to take it. Seriously," she chuckled, "He's called me once a day for a week to remind me. There was even a message on the machine when I got home last night."
"Bonnie took the blue ribbon at the county fair this summer for her rabbits. 4-H project," Jake told Heather, contemplating the implications of everything else she'd said. He could understand how she knew Bonnie, who was a sixth-grader at Jericho Elementary. Jake figured it was more than likely that Heather would take it upon herself to get to know every student in the school. But, what he didn't understand was how she knew Stanley. And, Jake wondered, how well did Stanley and Heather know one another? Obviously well enough that Stanley could call her every day.
"Ah, yes, 4-H!" Heather exclaimed, just as they came into sight of the farm stand. "Another organization that, for some reason, we didn't have at my girls' Catholic high school in Buffalo," she joked, waving at Stanley, who had spotted them, but was tied up helping a customer.
"I think 4-H is mandatory in Jericho," Jake replied as they walked the last few steps to the stand. "Just like we were all 'Future Farmers of America' in high school."
Stanley handed a dollar's change to the middle-aged women he was assisting. "Thanks Mrs. Dunham. Come by next week, and I'll definitely have cauliflower and sweet potatoes for you."
While Mrs. Dunham gathered up her purchases, Stanley turned to Heather and Jake. "Don't believe him," Stanley advised Heather, eschewing a more standard greeting. "Technically, he might have been on the club roster, but nobody ever thought Jake Green was a 'Future Farmer'. Now me," he continued, grinning at her and gesturing to the land around them, "I obviously had a destiny." He paused, a speculative expression settling on his features as he looked between Heather and Jake. "So," Stanley declared, crossing his arms, "You two have finally met."
Heather and Jake glanced at one another, exchanging equally baffled looks. "Um," Heather started, recovering first, "Were we supposed to meet?"
"Everyone in Jericho does, eventually," Stanley shrugged, still watching them carefully, noticing how closely they stood together, and how Jake had absently touched Heather's back, letting his hand stay there for a few seconds before quickly dropping it to his side. "But, I take it you didn't just meet five minutes ago, in the parking lot," Stanley guessed.
"Actually, we met yesterday," Heather answered, stunned by the realization that she'd only known Jake for a little over eighteen hours. "I was actually on my way to Jake's grandfather's to talk about a class project, and then my tire blew -"
"And, I was coming home from Denver," Jake interjected, "And, I saw Heather at the side of the road, so I stopped -"
"Jake changed my tire for me," Heather said, continuing their tag-team effort. "And, we went out to the ranch," she shrugged. "And, that's how we met."
"Okay," Stanley chuckled, knowing instinctively that there had to be more to it than that. Something else was needed to explain the sudden appearance of the Green-Lisiniski comedy duo. "Makes sense, sort of, except that you're a mechanical genius," he accused Heather lightly. "A veritable witch doctor for machines. The 'Tractor Whisperer'," he teased. "Seriously, Myra's running perfectly since you worked on her," Stanley told Heather, mentioning the name he'd given the temperamental tractor he'd inherited, along with the farm, from his father. "I'm actually starting to miss some of her quirks."
"I was in a skirt," Heather said, just as Jake said, "She was in a skirt." They looked at each other, grinning in embarrassment that soon gave way to nervous laughter.
"I was in a skirt," Heather repeated a few seconds later, once she'd forced herself to stop looking at Jake, and return her attention to Stanley. "Which is why Jake stopped to change my tire for me," she clarified. "So," Heather continued, obviously trying to change the subject, "Which quirks do you miss? Maybe I can put them back," she suggested, joking.
Stanley shook his head. "No thanks," he replied. He was frankly too busy being amazed by the transformation in his best friend, and even Heather to an extent, though he'd only known her for a few weeks, to worry about anything else. No, it was Jake who surprised him. Jake, who had been by turns, irritable, withdrawn and morose, ever since Jonah Prowse's arrest, and Chris Sullivan's death, four months before. At the time, Stanley hadn't cared, but once Jake had found him and confessed his role in the situation, followed by the press conference and the two-day sensation of TV reporters from Wichita crawling all over Jericho, he'd forgiven Jake his deception, and they had gone back to being friends. However, they were still a little leery of each other, mainly, Stanley thought, because of the funk that Jake had been in, and now suddenly wasn't. Stanley couldn't help but be astonished at the change in Jake and he couldn't help but wonder how much, exactly, Heather had to do with it.
"You are, of course, now entitled to free produce for the rest of your life," Stanley told Heather, shaking his head, still pondering the sudden transformation in his friend.
"Only if you keep me on as your on-call tractor repairwoman," Heather bargained. "Though, of course, I'm not available seven to four on weekdays," she reminded, smiling, "But other than that, I'll be right out."
"Deal," Stanley grinned, offering her his hand so they could shake on the agreement.
Bonnie came out of the house then, running up to Heather and Jake. She greeted them both enthusiastically, while Stanley began to help the next wave of arriving customers. "Hey, Jake, hey, Miss Lisinski," she said.
"I told you Bonnie," Heather reminded, facing the girl, "You can call me Heather, just not when we're at school."
Bonnie nodded. "Hey, Heather," she corrected herself.
Stanley walking by, paused in his dealings with an elderly couple to interject, "But, Miss Lisinski at school. You don't want to get Heather in trouble."
Jake had observed the interaction between Stanley, Heather, and now Bonnie without speaking and he was only becoming more confused. Heather had fixed Stanley's tractor? How often was she at the Richmonds? Why was Heather inviting Bonnie to call her by her first name when they weren't at school? Jake was starting to get a bad feeling about the situation. Were he and Stanley, for the first time in over twenty years of friendship, both interested in the same girl?
Heather flashed Jake a quick smile, unknowingly befuddling him more. She wandered off to look over the produce, selecting a couple of apples, which she put in her bag. Jake watched her go, sighing, and then tugged on Bonnie's ponytail to get her attention. "I hear you're actually giving away one of your rabbits," he said once she was looking at him, managing to remember the sign for 'rabbit' and, he hoped, 'give'. "I'm surprised," he told her.
Bonnie had entered her rabbits into the county fair, only to find out belatedly, that there was a strong possibility that whoever purchased her blue ribbon bunnies would do so either for food or their fur. She'd been so upset by this idea that she'd refused to sell them. Stanley had investigated and realized that Bonnie's 4-H leader hadn't done the best job ensuring that all aspects of the rabbit raising project were communicated to his sister. Bonnie was a farm girl, born and raised, but her rabbits had become pets, just like their dog and the barn cats. As a result, Bonnie had ended up returning home from the fair with both her prize ribbon and twenty-two rabbits. It had been during this drama that Jake had been readmitted to the Richmonds' friendship after nearly a year, and he had great sympathy for Bonnie's dilemma.
Bonnie shook her head. "Miss Lisinski is the best teacher at school," she told Jake, whispering. "She'll take good care of 'em."
"So, Heather's really nice, huh?" Jake asked, putting his arm around Bonnie's shoulders.
"She's great," Bonnie confirmed, grinning. "I love her." With that, she slipped away from him, skipping after Heather.
It took Stanley nearly ten minutes to handle all of the customers at the stand, but soon they were all on their way, and they couldn't see anyone else coming in on the road. It was a good time to leave the stand unattended. "Ready to pick out your rabbit?" he asked Heather.
"Yes," she agreed. "But, you have to let me pay for this," she added, placing her now full bag on the rough counter. "I'm taking practically everything you have."
Stanley shrugged. "Eh, what's mine is yours," he told her, intrigued by the scowl that passed across Jake's face at his words. "Seriously, five or six bucks of produce is worth not having to go tractor shopping," he assured Heather. Stanley pulled his 'back in fifteen' sign out from beneath the counter and propped it up. "I'd get Jake to watch the place, but he can't make change," he continued, checking to make sure his friend was still listening, "It's sad, really." Stanley glanced at Heather. "An aeronautical engineer and he can't do basic arithmetic," he finished, shaking his head in mock sorrow.
"Really?" Heather glanced at Jake, clearly surprised, clearly impressed. "You're an aeronautical engineer?"
"No," Jake corrected, stepping back into the conversation. "I have a degree in Aeronautical Science, not Aeronautical Engineering. There's a big difference," he grumbled, discomfited by Heather's suddenly appraising gaze.
"You still had to pass calculus, right?" Stanley retorted, locking the cashbox and picking it up to take along.
Jake rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I passed calculus."
The four started toward the barn, Bonnie dragging Heather along by the hand, chattering excitedly about the rabbit she thought Heather should pick.
"That's just amazing," Stanley commented to Jake, indicating his sister and Heather. "You know Bonnie, she just doesn't talk to new people - afraid of making a mistake - but she and Heather just clicked."
Jake waited until Heather and Bonnie entered the barn to respond. He stopped, grabbing Stanley's arm. "What exactly is up with you and Heather?" he demanded, glowering.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thursday, September 21, eighteen hours after the bombs
Heather, resting against the back wall of the mine, just as she had promised Jake, checked her watch for the umpteenth time. Two hours and twelve minutes had passed since the explosion. She said a quick prayer - also not for the first time - for Jake's safety, for the population of Jericho in general, for Scott Rennie, for the rain to stop. It was hot in the mine, and dusty, though the grit that suffused the chamber was mostly fine particle salt and not actual dirt. Her skin was starting to itch, like she'd been in a bath of sea salts for too long. That was at least as amusing as it was annoying and Heather decided then and there that she'd be throwing out any bath salts she found when she got home.
She was starting to want out and though she wasn't anywhere close to having a panic attack like her colleague's, she could understand Mr. Rennie's distress. Heather took a deep breath, and then another. She was feeling light-headed and dizzy again. She had to hold it together. The rain would stop and Jake would come for her, it was just a matter of time.
When Jake had left Heather had allowed herself only a handful of seconds to react. Gray Anderson had followed Jake out of the mine but had returned almost immediately, dragging her with him, farther back into the mineshaft. She had forced herself to stop crying then, biting the inside of her cheek, because the last thing she had wanted to do at that moment was appear weak and girly in front of Gray. Heather didn't like Gray, didn't trust him, and not just because he was her father-in-law's perpetual mayoral opponent. Heather had grown up in a union household and Gray had always struck her as the prototype of the unfeeling owner-manager.
Still gripping her arm, Gray had gotten on the radio, shouting "Almost ready, Jake. Stand by."
Heather had strained to hear her husband's response but all he said was a rather unsatisfying "C'mon, c'mon."
Shep had jogged down the path then, the last person that had been up at the mouth of the mine. Gray had shoved Heather at him. "Get her down there," he had ordered.
But Heather had pulled loose of both men, running her arm quickly over her eyes, trying to relieve the sticky feeling caused by her tears mixing with the particulates in the air. "I'm going," she had mumbled, having already started down the path that would take her deeper into the mine, mindful of her promise to Jake.
She had made it another twenty feet in before she had heard Gray yell, "Jake, we're all clear!" followed a few seconds later by the deafening roar of an explosion, which had gone on for nearly a half minute. Instinctively, she had leaned into the wall, praying that it wouldn't come down on top of her. It hadn't, and when the echo died down, giving way to a moment of blessed silence, they had found themselves truly sealed in and safe, at least from the rain. It was then that Heather had squared her shoulders and decided to do what she always did in the face of crisis; she had pitched in.
Only now, two hours and thirteen minutes after the explosion, there was nothing to do. Everyone had had their share of the water and her students, current and former, were all with their families. The group had grown subdued and although they still milled about some no one was talking much. Fatigue and worry showed in everyone's expressions.
Heather closed her eyes, resting for a moment. She fanned herself, rather ineffectually with just her hand. It was then that she heard something, the 'jack hammer sound' her city girl brain identified, though she knew it must be some sort of drilling equipment she couldn't name. The sound grew louder and the crowd became more animated. Heather took a few steps forward, but was unwilling to push her way into the large knot of people, so she stayed to the back. The noise was unmistakable now. Rock was breaking away, tumbling down, and then a cheer went up from those in front, followed by a blessedly cooling draft, the first truly fresh air they had all experienced in more than two hours.
"All right, everyone, you're gonna to be okay."
Heather smiled, recognizing her brother-in-law's voice. She knew then that they would be fine, but it was the sound of her husband speaking a few seconds later that offered her true comfort, despite the mundane quality of his words.
"Okay, we have food and water," he told the crowd, which was already surging forward, everyone eager to abandon the mine. "There are vehicles waiting for you guys to take you to the clinic, all right," Jake continued, his tone both soothing and authoritative. "Nice and slow," he urged as he moved through the throng. "File out, these guys'll help you. Listen, you're okay."
"Women and children first," Eric declared, but Heather could see that no one was listening.
Then Jake was there, easing his way through the crowd, all headed the other way, to the outside. There eyes met, gazes locking, and he smiled at her, his gentlest smile, the one, Heather thought, that she might just love the best. "You okay?" he asked quietly, concern furrowing his brow.
Heather grinned tiredly in return, nodding her head. "I think so," she answered, somewhat breathless.
Jake pulled her into a fierce hug almost before the words were out of her mouth. "I love you," her murmured against the top of her head, which he tucked against his chest. "I shouldn't have left you here, I'm sorry," he told her, running his hands over her arms and down her back, checking her, Heather realized, for injuries.
"I'm fine," she told him, clutching his t-shirt. "I'm fine," Heather repeated. "Still have a broken leg, but I'm fine." She pulled away a few inches, all that he would allow, and looked up at him. "I love you, too," she murmured as his mouth captured hers.
"I shouldn't have left you here," Jake said again when they pulled apart. He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. "Next time -"
"Next time, there's no way I'm following you into a salt mine," Heather interrupted, grinning. "I love you, but there are limits," she told him chuckling. "This is going to have to be a once in a lifetime experience." She groaned, scratching the back of one hand with the other. "I'm completely itchy!"
Laughing, Jake held Heather loosely against himself. "Next time April wants to do something completely nepotistic, will you please just let her?" he requested, kissing her forehead. He laughed again, making a face. "Your head's all salty," he told her.
"Go figure," Heather returned, rolling her eyes. "Look, Jake," she sighed, "April wasn't -" She cut herself off, recognizing the dismayed look that crossed his face. Something brushed against her rear, and she tried to turn around, but Jake took a step back, pulling her with him.
"Gray, what happened?" Jake demanded.
Heather twisted her head to see what was going on, and gasped at the sight of Gray and Shep carrying a limp Scott Rennie past them.
"He's dead."
"What?" Heather looked up at Jake. "That doesn't make any sense!" she protested.
* * * * *
Jake and Heather caught a ride back to the medical center with one of the volunteers, both glad that they didn't have to ride the school bus again. When they arrived at the clinic, Jake walked in with Heather, refusing to leave her this time even though she told him he could go ahead. The clinic was a madhouse and Jake held onto her free hand, helping her thread her way through the mass of people, until they finally found April.
"Hey," Jake greeted his sister-in-law. "How's Stanley?"
April, in the middle of trying to do three things at once, didn't answer immediately. She gave a verbal order to one nurse, and then signed an order, handing the chart she was looking at back to another. "Uh, we're still watching him," she told him finally.
"Where is he?" Jake inquired.
April was moving again, striding down the hall, Jake and Heather trying to follow her through the crowd. "We had to isolate him," she explained, shouting back over her shoulder.
"Where?" Jake asked, "Where is he?" April pointed out a door at the end of the cross corridor. "Thanks," he said, already heading for the room she'd indicated.
Heather started to go after him, but April stopped her. "Uh, I need to borrow Heather for a minute," she called to Jake.
"I'll catch up with you," Heather offered.
"Okay," Jake agreed, coming back to kiss her quickly before turning back down the hallway.
Heather waited while April consulted with yet another nurse and then scribbled out a quick prescription. "Are you sure you need me now?" she asked, looking up and down the corridor. The evacuees from the mine were being run through a quick triage before being sent home. "April, there are a lot of people waiting," Heather reminded.
"Yeah," April agreed. "But look," she said, her tone hushed, "Stanley was out in the rain for at least twenty minutes." Grabbing Heather by the sleeve, she added, "Come to my office for a minute."
April didn't say anything else until they were both in her office, the door closed. They faced one another over April's messy desk. "We're observing Stanley for signs of radiation poisoning," she continued as if there had been no interruption in the flow of their conversation. "I have no idea what his exposure level was. So, it's probably not a good idea for you to be around Stanley until we have a better idea about his condition."
"Yeah, right," Heather agreed, sighing. "Do you think - God, if Stanley gets sick." She couldn't bring herself to finish her statement; the idea was too horrible to contemplate.
April nodded, her grim expression mirroring Heather's. "I'm gonna keep him for the rest of the afternoon," she explained. "If he seems okay, well, we'll just go from there." April made a half turn in her rolling desk chair, retrieving two items from the floor beside her desk. "Here," she said, handing Heather her backpack, "Somebody went through your bus this morning, dropped this off here. And, this," she continued, placing a drawstring plastic bag that was embossed with 'Jericho Medical' on the desk, "Has your clothes. I know you said to chuck 'em, but with the way things are...."
"Yeah, it's probably going to be awhile before any of us will be hitting the mall again, huh?" Heather observed. She searched the front pocket of her backpack, producing a set of keys with a flourish. "Well, I can get my car back now at least," she declared, standing so that she could put the keys in her pants pocket. "Thanks," she added, unzipping the main compartment of the backpack to shove the bag of clothing inside. "I should let you get back to work."
"No rest for the wicked, I guess," April grumbled, also standing. "Look, as your doctor, I'm giving you the following orders: Find Jake, go home, and get some sleep."
Heather yawned. "Sounds good to me," she answered. "But I want a shower first."
"Put a garbage bag around your cast," April reminded, opening her office door. She waited while Heather retrieved her backpack and crutch, and then escorted her out. "Gail and Johnston are here, too," she told Heather. "Dad's come down with some bug, but it doesn't seem to be catching. They're in exam three."
"Thanks," Heather acknowledged. An orderly called for April, and she was just about to follow when Heather stopped her. "April, I want to know. What happened to Scott Rennie?"
April frowned. "It looks like he had a heart attack," she answered finally, shrugging. "I'm sorry," she added, squeezing Heather's arm. "I have to go."
"Yeah, okay," Heather nodded. It didn't make sense to her, but she was too tired to figure out what it was exactly that was bothering her. April had disappeared from sight already, and Heather decided to put the matter aside for now and take her sister-in-law's advice. She would find Jake and convince him that it was, finally, time to go home.
Heather ran into her husband a minute later. "Hey, you," he greeted, offering her a lopsided smile.
"Hey, yourself," she returned. "How's Stanley?"
"Making Spider Man jokes," he told her. "Bonnie and I are pretty sure he's going to live. What'd April want?"
She showed him her backpack, and Jake took it from her automatically, drawing a giggle from Heather. She had long ago given into what she considered to be Jake's 'chivalrous gestures', but they still amused her on occasion. "Thank you," she grinned. "Somebody went through the bus this morning, and left my things with April. So now," she continued, "I have my car keys. We're not expecting another storm, or a plague of locusts, anything like that, for the rest of the day, are we?"
"God, I hope not," Jake declared, shouldering her backpack.
"Well then, I want a shower and a nap, and since April says your parents are here - your Dad's come down with some sort of bug?"
"The flu," he supplied, as they started walking together down the corridor.
"Huh, she told me he wasn't contagious," Heather reported, shaking her head. "Anyway, maybe your Mom will be willing to drive us over to the school to get my car? I really just want to go home," she admitted with a tired smile. "Take a shower, go to bed."
He put an arm around her shoulder, half-hugging her. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed, kissing the top of her head. Her hair was full of dust, but he didn't say anything about it this time. "I need to talk to Dad about something anyway," Jake told her. He knew that he also needed to talk to Heather about his plans for an information scouting trip, and sooner rather than later. But, Jake found that he couldn't bring himself to tell her yet, not when he'd already broken the promise he'd made her the night before once; not now that he was planning to break that promise again.
They entered his father's hospital room just in time to hear Johnston claim, "I can run this town without my pants."
"It wouldn't be the first time," his mother agreed amiably, a clear sign, Jake thought, that she had the upper hand in the current situation. Still, his father cleared his throat, emitting a harrumphing noise that Jake interpreted to mean 'Damn straight!'
"All right," Jake interrupted, drawing the attention of both his parents to the door. He glanced at Heather, who was trying not to laugh. "That's a story I never want to hear," he told them, shaking his head.
"Oh, sweetheart! Honey!" Gail exclaimed, abandoning Johnston's side for the moment. "How are you feeling?" she demanded, throwing her arms around them both.
"My leg's a little sore," Jake admitted. "It's nothing, really."
"Heather?" Gail prompted, taking a step back to look them both over.
"I'm fine," she assured. "Tired and dirty and itchy," she chuckled softly, "And, I never want to see the inside of that salt mine again. I can't imagine what'd be like to work there everyday."
"I can't imagine what'd be like to work for Gray Anderson everyday," Johnston interjected before giving into a coughing fit.
"That, too," Heather agreed, nodding.
Gail returned to her husband's side, helping him to sit up, and then rubbing his back while he continued to wheeze and hack, trying to catch his breath. "Your father has the flu," she announced.
"It's nothin'," he protested, panting.
"Did you hear that Mr. Rennie died?" Jake asked, glancing sideways at Heather. He knew that she was upset by what had happened, and she had told him twice during their trip from the mine to the clinic that it didn't make any sense, that Scott Rennie had been having a panic attack one minute and was dead the next.
"That's terrible," Johnston muttered.
"April says he had a heart attack," Heather offered, frowning. "But, I don't know."
"Oh, honey," Gail clucked, "I know that you worked with Mr. Rennie, and that you're upset, but I'm sure April's right."
No one said anything for a moment, an awkward silence growing in the room. "I've been thinking," Jake started, deciding that a subject change was in order. "More than anything, this town needs information," he told them, reaching for Heather's hand. "We could organize a group of people. Send them out in every direction."
"I don't think anyone should be leaving Jericho!" his mother objected immediately.
"We have to," Jake contended. "We can't just sit here in the dark."
"He's right," Johnston interjected softly, before his wife could launch into the rant he knew was coming. "Makes us too vulnerable," he added, clearing his throat.
Jake nodded, grateful for his father's support of the plan. He hadn't been sure that Johnston would go for it after their argument, over the radio, earlier in the day. "I'll get it organized."
"You're going to go," Heather said, looking up at him. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her eyes narrow. He wasn't sure whether she was worried, or just spitting mad. "You haven't been home even twenty-four hours - you haven't actually even been home - and you're planning to leave again," she accused.
"Heather, it's my idea," he argued.
She looked away, ignoring him, addressing his mother. "Gail. My car's still at the school," she said, a hint of a sob straining her voice. "Do you think you could give me a ride over there?"
Gail glanced between her son and daughter-in-law, unsure of how to proceed. "Sure, honey. Of course," she answered at last, turning to retrieve her purse.
Jake had held fast to Heather's hand, despite her best efforts to pull away. "Give us a minute, Mom," he requested, forcing Heather to follow him out into the corridor, and closing the door behind them. Gail and Johnston both watched through the room's observation window as they stepped across the hall, and faced one another, clearly in a heated, if whispered, conversation.
Gail only managed one step forward before Johnston laid a gentle hand on her arm. "Abigail," he exhaled, disapproving. "It's bad enough they have to fight this out right now, in public. They don't need you listening in. Turn around," he directed a few seconds later. "This has been a long time coming. Give 'em their privacy."
"A long time coming?" Gail repeated, facing him. "What do you mean by that, Johnston Green?"
Johnston closed his eyes, sitting back on the hospital bed. He'd protested loudly when April had insisted that he needed to be in it, but now he was just a little bit grateful. "You and I both know that the biggest part of marriage is compromise. Jake married that girl, and somehow managed to never compromise a thing. He's still in and out of Jericho as he pleases -"
"That's his job, Johnston," Gail disputed, crossing her arms.
"He didn't have to keep that job. He doesn't have to be chasing all over the world, after God knows what," Johnston argued. "Jake could do anything he wanted. He's got more potential, more natural ability, than any ten other people I know. He always has had. He could've done a hundred different things, once he married Heather."
Gail shook her head sadly. "Why don't you ever tell him that?" she demanded.
"Abigail."
"Don't call me 'Abigail'," she grumbled. "That's one of our compromises," she reminded.
"Yes, ma'am."
Whatever else Johnston was going to say in response was cut off by a knock at the door, followed by Jake sticking his head in two seconds later. "Mom, are you ready?" he asked wearily.
"Of course," Gail answered. Just give me a moment."
Jake nodded, and closed the door behind him. They watched as he walked back to where Heather now stood, leaning against the opposite wall. He joined her, reaching for her fisted hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles one by one. Heather relaxed her hand somewhat reluctantly, and he was able to lace their fingers together, their hands dropping, still connected, between them. "I'm sorry," they saw him say, reading his lips.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Saturday, October 13, five years before the bombs
"What's up with Heather?" Stanley repeated, "And me?" He watched Jake carefully, taking in just how incensed his friend really was. Jake Green had never thrown a punch at him, but Stanley couldn't help but think that might soon change.
"Yes, what's up with you and Heather," Jake repeated. "Are you two dating?"
"What? She's Bonnie's teacher," Stanley answered, deciding to play dumb. He was willing to risk getting into a fist fight with Jake to get to the bottom of his friend's feelings for Heather Lisinski.
"Heather teaches third grade," Jake argued, taking an agitated step towards Stanley. "Bonnie's in the sixth."
"Yeah," Stanley agreed. "But she's also been working with Bonnie. Look," he said, chuckling humorlessly, "That school's full of fossils. Except for Heather, all the teachers are the same ones we had, and they were old when we were there. They won't let Bonnie take gym," Stanley reminded, shaking his head. "And, I get that, the whole thing about how she can't play on a team, or she could get hit in the head by a ball because she wouldn't hear someone yelling a warning. That's fine," he claimed, though his tone said otherwise. "But, this year, Mrs. Walker - you remember Mrs. Walker?"
Jake nodded. "Yeah. She hasn't retired yet?"
Stanley snorted. "Apparently, the retirement age at Jericho Elementary is a hundred," he complained. "Anyway, Mrs. Walker won't let Bonnie stay in the classroom when the rest of the kids go to gym. And, the gym teacher won't let Bonnie come sit and watch the rest of the class play, so she has to go to the library, and just sit by herself. Like she isn't stuck in her own world too much as it is," he finished, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"That's ridiculous," Jake muttered. He backed off a step, apparently willing to hear Stanley out. Stanley breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Jake wasn't planning to hit him after all.
"So, the third day of school this year, I get a call from a Miss Lisinski, asking if she can come out to the farm for a parent-teacher conference. I just figured she was the new special ed teacher from the county. The one from last year's supposed to be on maternity leave right now. Anyway," Stanley continued, "Heather comes out, introduces herself, and we talk, get it straight who I am."
"Right," Jake grinned knowingly. To say that Bonnie had been a surprise baby was an understatement. He could still remember the horrified look on Stanley's face the day he found out at fifteen that he was no longer going to be an only child. Jake could still hear him saying, absolutely mortified, 'This means my parents have sex!' Of course, Stanley had adored his sister from the moment of her birth, but he'd also had a hard time over the years with the assumptions of tut-tutting strangers that he was her teen-aged father.
"Well, Heather had taken her class to the library because she wanted them to do book reports, and she found Bonnie there. So, she talks to Bonnie, to the librarian, to Mrs. Walker, and gets the whole story. She was incensed, madder about it than me, really," Stanley admitted, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "And so, she came out to ask me if it would be all right for Bonnie to come to her classroom instead, as like a teacher's aide, during gym class."
"That all sounds like a good idea," Jake agreed. "Doesn't quite explain why she's fixing your tractor," he reminded, staring at Stanley, arms crossed.
"You really do like her," Stanley murmured, shaking his head in wonder. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for you and any woman who isn't Emily Sullivan. I'm just not used to the idea," he explained, grinning. "Emily's had you wrapped around her little finger since we were twelve years old. All she's ever had to do is say 'jump', and you say 'how high, and do you want me to stand on my head, too?'" Stanley grumbled, rolling his eyes. "It's never mattered how many times she dumped you, broken your heart, you've always taken her back when she was ready."
"I've dated other girls besides Emily," Jake protested. "I'm not -"
"Completely whipped?" Stanley supplied, smirking. "And, these mythical other girls are?" he challenged.
"In college," Jake countered. "I went out with other girls in college, and in California. Nicole, Liz, Kara," he named.
"Doesn't count," Stanley declared. "You've never been able to get past Emily, not when you're in Jericho. You come home, you're here for five seconds, which is all the time Emily needs, 'cause she's got 'Jake radar', and then you fall right back in with her."
"Well, that's not gonna happen anymore," Jake reminded Stanley, looking away. "Emily hates my guts now."
Heather appeared in the barn door then, calling to them, and waving. "Are you guys coming in? I'm a total rabbit novice. I need advice," she laughed.
"Give us a minute," Stanley yelled. "We're discussing, uh, crop rotation."
"Okay," she laughed again, shaking her head. Even across the fifty or so yards between them Jake was sure he could make out her disbelieving expression. "Sounds fascinating," Heather shouted, turning around to go back inside.
"Crop rotation?" Jake questioned, once she'd disappeared from sight. "How is that even believable? What do I know about crop rotation?"
Stanley shrugged. "You were a 'Future Farmer'," he reminded. "And, you seem to know at least a little about everything else in the world. You're the closest thing Jericho has to a resident genius." He paused, thinking for a moment. "That does explain you and Heather, though. She's really too smart for Jericho, too."
"I've only known her for a day - not even - eighteen hours," Jake responded. "There isn't a 'Heather and me'."
"But you do like her," Stanley prompted quietly. "And, you wouldn't mind being an 'us' with her." Jake didn't answer, and Stanley allowed a low whistle. "That bad, huh?" he muttered. "She's worth it, Jake. But don't go after her unless you mean it," he warned. "If you're just messin' with her, I'd have to beat you up."
"And, you're sure you're not dating her?" Jake returned, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the turn of their conversation, though he knew that he was the one who started it. "Are you sure you don't want to date her?" Stanley started to blush, and Jake accused, "You did date Heather!"
"One date," Stanley conceded. "And, like an hour and a half in, she told me, very nicely, that I reminded her of her brother. She's got four of them," he added, "So I guess it wasn't that unlikely." Stanley shrugged. "I think Heather's great," he told Jake. "One of my top ten favorite people of all time, given everything she's done for Bonnie, building her confidence, getting her actually tutoring younger kids. But," he admitted, "There really wasn't any chemistry between us."
Jake nodded, accepting Stanley's assurances. "You know, she does kind of remind me of your cousin Megan. I mean, they look nothing alike, but personality and attitude-wise?"
"Yes!" Stanley declared, a look of relief washing over him. "Exactly! I knew there was something about her. Kissing Heather'd be like kissing Megan!" he crowed.
"Sshh!" Jake shushed Stanley, groaning. "She's not Bonnie," he reminded. "She can hear you." He frowned at his friend then, glaring. "You kissed Heather?"
"No," Stanley answered, rolling his eyes. "You don't kiss a girl who's already told you that you're like a brother."
"Right," Jake agreed absently. "That makes sense." He nodded, and Stanley could almost see the gears whirling around inside his head. He knew that Jake was trying to assimilate everything he'd learned in the last few minutes, to make sense of it all. "Where'd you take her?" Jake asked suddenly, pinning Stanley with a glance.
"What?" Stanley asked. He had already taken a step toward the barn, figuring that their conversation, for now, was over. "What?" he repeated.
Jake expelled the breath he'd been holding. "Where did you take her?" he questioned again. "If I ask her out, I'm not taking her to the same place you did."
That at least, Stanley thought, made sense. And, he was relieved to see that Jake was actually planning to follow through on something. The Jake Green he'd grown up with would have asked Heather out, no question - except for the fact that he'd always been going with Emily. The Jake Green of the last few months though, he was a different, less confident creature.
"Roma Italia," Stanley said finally, naming the best of Jericho's few restaurants. "Maybe you had better take her somewhere in Goodland or Rogue River," he suggested.
"I could take her to The Jericho Grille," Jake argued. "It's nice. Good for a first date, I guess."
"Yeah, but it's really bright in there," Stanley reminded. "Italia Roma, it has more of a subdued atmosphere, romantic." He met Jake's eye then, recognizing the hostility that had crept back into his friend's glare. "What? I didn't actually kiss her," he defended himself.
"But you were planning to," Jake accused.
Stanley rolled his eyes. "Well, duh," he agreed. They both took a few more steps toward the barn before, this time, Stanley stopped Jake. "One more thing," he said, his voice low. "When you do take her out, you'd better tell her everything," he advised, throwing his friend a significant look. "And, I mean everything."
"I'm under a gag order from a federal judge," Jake reminded. "That's not something you mess around with."
"She's not a reporter, Jake," Stanley protested. "She's trustworthy, which you've already figured out," he reminded. "But, she knows Emily." Stanley let the words hang between them for a moment, wanting Jake to realize the seriousness of the situation. He loved Jake like a brother, and while he hadn't considered him for Heather before they'd appeared before him together a half hour before, now he couldn't help but see it as a great idea.
"I don't think they're friends, or anything like that," he continued. "But they are the only two new teachers in Jericho in like fifty years. That's gotta be a little bit bonding," Stanley suggested. "And, I know they met as some mandatory school district training thing." He sighed. "I don't trust Emily. If you start dating Heather, and Emily finds out, she'll do anything she can to sabotage it," he predicted. "You need to beat her to the punch."
Jake acknowledged Stanley's advice with a nod, but didn't say anything. The two headed for the barn finally, joining Heather and Bonnie at what had to be the most elaborate and deluxe rabbit pen in the county, and possibly the whole state of Kansas. It took up an entire corner of the barn, and was, Jake estimated, nearly three hundred square feet in size. There was no way that anyone seeing it could ever doubt Stanley's devotion to his sister.
Jake, acting more confident than he really felt after his conversation with Stanley, walked up behind Heather, placing both of his hands lightly on her shoulders. She twitched slightly, almost imperceptibly, and he spoke softly into her ear, asking, "Did I scare you?"
Heather looked back at him over her shoulder, her mouth mere centimeters from his own. "I have four brothers," she told him, grinning. "I know better than to ever admit to being scared."
"Well, if I did scare you, I'm sorry," Jake apologized, squeezing her shoulders before removing his hands. He stepped away, shaking his head to clear it. He concentrated for the moment on the enclosure, trying to count rabbits, as Bonnie worked inside, diligently struggling to separate the animals into categories that only she truly understood. Bonnie had allowed the rabbits to mix freely together, and therein seemed to be the problem. "There are a lot more rabbits here than you took to the fair," Jake observed, shooting Stanley an amused look.
"Yeah, well, they won't stop breeding," Stanley said with a quick look at his sister. "We took sixteen to the fair, came home with twenty-two, and now we've got forty-eight," he admitted. "You wouldn't believe how much I'm spending on alfalfa pellets a month."
"You do know what rabbits did to Australia, right?" Jake questioned. "You might want to separate them," he suggested.
"Stanley, I can only take one," Heather reminded. "The janitor'll kill me if I start a rabbit colony at the school."
Jake snorted. "Then, you're gonna want to pick a male," he advised her, returning to her side, their arms brushing. "Any of the females could be pregnant."
"Well, that's for damn sure," Stanley grumbled. "Hey, we've got 'em in every color." He opened the door to the rabbit pen, and stepped inside. "What looks good to you?"
"And, you're sure you can tell the difference between the boys and the girls?" Heather demanded.
Stanley nodded 'yes', and Bonnie stepped forward, holding a fat, contented, sleepy brown rabbit. "This is Bungee," she announced. "And, he's definitely a boy."
Heather and Jake exchanged an amused look, and then she said, "Well, Bungee Bunny, I hope you're ready to be the third grade mascot."
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