The Greens of Jericho

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Different Circumstances: Part 15B of ? by Marzee Doats


Author's Note: Much thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Skyrose, especially for finding time for me (and DC) even when real life has gotten so busy.  And thanks to Penny Lane for late night assists and all the wonderful Mikey prompts – he owes his appearance in this chapter to you. :-)

Warnings: This is another long one, so maybe use the restroom, grab a beverage, and settle in for a while.  Also, I should add that there is quite a chunk of discussion on medical matters, including birth control.


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Monday January 22, four months after the bombs

The doors at the main entrance to the Jericho Medical Center had been automated for as long as she could remember – as long as she'd lived in Jericho – or at least they had been, until the unthinkable had happened.  In actuality, the entrance consisted of two sets of doors separated by what the building engineer had pompously referred to as an airlock vestibule when he'd given her a tour of the facility some years before.  Still, it had been a sensible solution, preserving heat in the winter and the air conditioning in the summer.  The sliding doors had been triggered by pressure sensors that had allowed patients on crutches or in wheelchairs or mobility scooters as well as parents pushing strollers easy access to the building.  But now automation was a luxury they could not afford, given their limited electricity generation capabilities, and the power connections for these doors and the ones in the emergency room had been disabled early on, back when they'd all still hoped that the generator was a stopgap measure and that the real power would be back on soon.

Unfortunately, there hadn't been a reason to remove the weighty mechanical fixtures – again, they had been hoping against hope – and so Gail was left to struggle with the heavy door, grunting softly as she worked to shove it back far enough along its track that she could squeeze through, all the time remembering how easy it had been before.  It was, she conceded to herself, an odd thing to fixate on, but still she welcomed it.  Better than the worries that had been plaguing her for days, and which she'd made worse – not better – when she'd confessed them out loud to her husband the night before.  Now, every time he looked at her she could tell that he was worrying about her, and not about the choices that April might make in the future.  There was an element of pity in his expression too, one that made her bristle, and that, coupled with her already shaky, on-the-edge feeling, had left her out of sorts and not completely capable of being around him this morning.

Johnston had offered to walk her over, but she'd turned him down, arguing that the medical center was in the exact opposite direction of town hall where he was headed, and besides, she'd much rather that he walked with Heather, the only other member of the family who'd joined them for a breakfast of leftover spoon bread.  Jake was already out of the house for the day, Heather had reported, having left around six, claiming that he was too cold to sleep, and so he might as well get an early start.  For a moment, Gail had been able to push away her other concerns as she'd marveled at the notion of her would-have-happily-made-a-career-out-of-sleeping-in son getting up before dawn, and apparently of his own volition.

"Well, it really is cold this morning," Heather had argued, her hands wrapped tightly around her mug of herbal tea.  "Frankly, once he left, I was too cold to sleep myself," she'd complained half-heartedly.  "I almost told him that was gonna happen, but then he would've stayed, and I would've felt bad."

"That's not something you need to feel bad about," Gail had countered, "Not when you're seven months pregnant." 

This statement had elicited a strangled snort from Johnston, though Heather hadn't seemed to notice.  "But he really does have a lot on his to do list these days," she'd insisted, heaving a sigh.  "So maybe since he's gotten a jump on things, he'll be able to call it a day at a reasonable hour, and will actually be home in time for dinner."

"That would be nice," Gail had agreed.  "Still… Jake up at six AM.  Will wonders never cease?" she'd laughed softly.  "You know, I used to threaten that I was gonna borrow a stick of dynamite from the mine and blast him out of bed," she'd told them.  "I was thrilled any day when he was up by seven fifteen."

Shaking her head, Gail locked the outside door behind her.  By the night they'd witnessed the ICBMs being launched from somewhere in Wyoming – two weeks after the bombs – April had already been the senior physician at the Jericho Medical Center for three or four days.  While they all hoped that Craig Peterson had found Darlene, his daughter, in Kansas City, all they knew for sure was that he'd never come back to town.  Dr. Hoder had stuck it out about a week longer, but then, he too had hit the road, wanting to reach his parents and sisters in Lincoln, Nebraska.  Left with the gargantuan task of keeping the facility running, April had closed all the entrances to the building save the two in the emergency department.  But Gail still had her key and today had seemed like a good time to make sure it still worked.

She had never been an actual employee of the medical center or any of the doctors who had operated their practices from the facility, but a few months after April had hung out her shingle in Jericho she'd recruited her mother-in-law to fill in for a Lamaze class when the regular instructor had been called out of town for a family emergency.  It was freelance work – the four moms-to-be in the class had paid her directly – and since she and Johnston hadn't needed the money, that hundred dollars had been the first deposit she'd made into a new savings account at Kansas Liberty Bank, all funds earmarked for an eventual grand tour of Europe.  Gail had enjoyed her stint as a health educator and so, after taking a few certification courses through the university extension, she'd begun a part-time job teaching not only Lamaze and New Baby Basics, but also on occasion other classes such as CPR and Living with Diabetes. 

The key to the medical center had come with her new position, not that she'd needed it very often, Gail found herself thinking as she went to work on opening the second sliding door.  No, back then each time she had come into the facility through this entrance, her arms full of materials for whichever class she was teaching that particular day, the doors had always whooshed open before her.  She'd exchanged pleasantries with the volunteer working the reception desk – on Tuesdays that had always Ellie Moreno, one of the widows who'd chased EJ Green during his last few years – before heading downstairs to the Health Education classroom to set up.  Everything had been the way it was supposed to be then, and it had been easy.  Too easy perhaps, she admitted to herself.  Though, she'd happily give up automatic doors and elevators – not to mention quite a few other modern conveniences – for the rest of her life, if only everything else, everything important, didn't insist upon changing.

But that was a deal the universe was clearly unwilling to make with her, Gail   acknowledged, allowing a rueful chuckle, as she turned sideways and shimmied through the gap she'd created.  She was now inside the lobby, a section of the building that had also been abandoned early on.  It was an open, tiled, formerly bright and airy, but now completely useless space, and the consensus had been that it wasn't worth heating, even to provide more room for patients or staff.  Standing here now, her arms wrapped around herself, Gail had to wonder what she'd been thinking to try and steal into the building this way.  A bad evening, the feeling of dread that still left a bitter flavor in the back of her mouth and which tightened her throat painfully, none of it justified this crazy act: sneaking into the med center through the used-to-be-the-front-door-now-closed-off-never-to-be used-again entrance.  She hurried across the lobby, past the reception desk, the elevator, and the blood pressure check station, feeling almost like she was trampling a grave.

Gail turned for the east wing of the building, where the emergency room/urgent care clinic was located, along with the laboratory, x-ray and cast rooms.  The birthing center which, after having been stripped of its useful supplies, had been closed off for the time being, occupied the west wing along with four leased suites that had housed the individual doctors' practices.  Those practices were also now abandoned, the result of the departures of not only Dr. Peterson and Dr. Hoder, but also Dr. Clement, Jericho's one full-time obstetrician/gynecologist.  Aside from April, only Dr. Leland – an optometrist – and Dr. Rocha – a dentist – had remained in town.  They were both more than willing to pitch in at the clinic, but deferred to April – and now even Jeff, Michael and Drake – on all matters of treatment.

Yanking open the fire door, Gail stepped, finally, into the occupied part of the building.  It was noticeably warmer – though definitely not warm – on this side of the door, and she could now hear the buzz of human activity from the other end of the hallway.  She took a deep breath and pasted on a smile.

"What are you doing here?" her daughter-in-law inquired as Gail came around the corner.  April was standing just outside her office, locking the door.  Before the crisis, April had had an office and exam room where she could meet with and treat her general practice patients, and a nurse, receptionist and small waiting room that she'd shared with Craig Peterson in the west wing but, she'd always been more in her element in the ER and clinic.  It was her office on the east side of the building that she'd taken the time to truly personalize, and that she practically lived out of now.  "Skulking around?" she guessed, chuckling, one eyebrow raised in question, as she used a whiteboard marker to quickly scribble her status – around – on the message board, right below a permanent label that proclaimed 'Dr. Green is …'.  "And listen to me…" she sighed, "I say that like I can pay you with something other than my undying gratitude."

"And that's more than enough for me, sweetheart," Gail answered, squeezing the younger woman's arm.  "You know that."

"Well, I'm still thankful," April smiled tiredly.  "For you," she added, gesturing at her mother-in-law, "And for everyone else who shows up here every day.  It's not like I can run this place on my own.  But you really are early," she reminded, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to recall the work schedule she'd put together for the day.  "You're not supposed to be here for another couple of hours at least."

"Actually, I think I am skulking around," Gail laughed softly in reply.  "Doing a little investigative work, anyway.  Apparently, Jeff has been flirting with someone around here," she confided, "And now she's – not broken his heart, but definitely bruised it a little."

April's smile turned indulgent and she rolled her eyes playfully.  "Jeff flirts with everybody," she reminded, "He flirts with me!  And Lindsay Davis – he set her arm last week and now she's got a mad crush on him, practically swoons whenever she sees him."

"Well, I certainly never considered Lindsay for the culprit," Gail sniffed.  "But he really was kind of low about the whole thing last night," she argued, sighing softly.  "Besides, it was too cold to sleep in this morning – for all of us – I mean, Jake was up and outta the house at six, if you can believe that," she explained, shaking her head.  "Well, Drake somehow managed to sleep in," Gail corrected herself, "He didn't stumble upstairs until the rest of us – Heather, Johnston and me – were headed out the door."

"Okay then," April grinned, wrapping her cardigan more tightly around herself.  "Feel free to skulk around.  And, if you figure out who the mystery woman is, resistant to all of Jeff's charms," she joked, "Lemme know."

"I will," Gail assured.  "But April," she continued, stopping her daughter-in-law as she began to turn away, "You know, you can flirt back… if you want to, I mean."  Even before the words had left her mouth, she'd known she shouldn't say them, that they would come out all wrong, and yet there they were, hanging awkwardly between them.  "I don't mean with Jeff," Gail added quickly, an uneasy chuckle escaping her.  "Not that there's anything wrong with Jeff – I love Jeff – but –"

"He's a little young for me, don't you think?" April interrupted, making a face.  "I mean, total kid brother territory," she grumbled uncomfortably.

"No – or yes," Gail replied immediately.  "I mean, I'm not saying you should flirt with Jeff," she explained, "Though there'd be nothing wrong with it, if that's what you wanted to do.  I just mean…."  She paused, letting out a long, anxious breath.  "I just mean, if there was someone you wanted to flirt with, if there was someone you were interested in – in having a relationship with…."

"This is so weird," April muttered, closing her eyes and rubbing them with her thumb and index finger.

"It really is," her mother-in-law sighed.

"So you're – you're trying to say you think I should date?" April guessed.  All traces of her earlier good humor had disappeared, and to Gail's eye she looked tired, even overwhelmed by all of her never-ending responsibilities.  "Because, well, I guess it's not actually nuclear winter, but it's as close as I ever wanna get," she said, allowing a dour chuckle.   "And, I'm pregnant.  And, I'm not divorced….  Not exactly married, but we're not divorced either," she repeated, frowning and looking past Gail as she let her hands come to rest over the child she carried.

Gail nodded.  She'd overheard her daughters-in-law discussing this very subject the week before, and she knew that Eric and April had agreed to wait until after the baby was born to worry about the dissolution of their marriage.  "I can't really explain it," April had complained to Heather, "I mean, I know we're through, I don't want to be with him….  But still, shouldn't our baby be born inside our marriage and not two, three months after our divorce?"

"But he agreed, right?"  Heather had reminded, her tone soothing.  "That means something."

"Maybe," April had muttered, "Though probably he's just hoping I'll give in some on custody if he gives me this," she'd argued, adding sarcastically, "Time heals all wounds, don't you know?  God, this is such a mess."

"I'm really making a mess of this," Gail confessed then, frowning.  It had seemed like a good idea when April had given her the opening.  After all, if she found someone and that someone was in Jericho, then the chances that she would leave town – would take their grandchild away – would necessarily be reduced.  "I just mean that I – we – Johnston and I, we love you, April," Gail explained, her hands fluttering.  "And, you are always going to be our daughter, for as long as you want to be … longer, probably," she chuckled anxiously.  "And, if – when – you find someone… we will only be happy for you."

"And we all thought this Thanksgiving was weird," April returned drily.  She paused a moment, taking a deep breath and offering her mother-in-law a weak smile.  "I'm not really ready to contemplate that quite yet.  Dating," she clarified unnecessarily.   "I just – I think I'm gonna concentrate on more important things for a while.  This clinic.  My baby.  Everything else… I just can't think about right now." 

Gail nodded, feeling an odd mix of relief and disappointment.  April was devoted to the clinic, and for now, that would be enough of an anchor to keep her in Jericho.  It was, she realized, the reason Johnston wasn't nearly as concerned about their daughter-in-law as he was about her.  But what would happen in a few years?  After things got better – and they had to get better! – after the baby was born, and then down the road a bit when perhaps Eric and Mary had had a child of their own?  All her life, Gail had found the unknowable future to be exciting, and she'd entered into nursing school, marriage, the University of Kansas, and motherhood not entirely prepared for what she was in for, but always with the enthusiasm of a novice, ready to confront and surmount all challenges.  But now, the future was simply frightening with all the ways everything could go so wrong.

 "Well, that's … understandable," Gail decided, letting out a long breath.

"And, I do appreciate your – your position, I guess," April mumbled, shrugging.  "And your love and support and the fact that I'm not out on the street –"

"April!" her mother-in-law protested, "That would never happen.  You know that.  Forget Johnston and me, Eric wouldn't have let that happen."

She looked conflicted – not like she disbelieved the claim, but certainly like she wanted to argue it, though in the end she decided to let it go.  This was April's way.  Once they had all recovered from the initial shock of Eric's announcement and hasty departure, the situation wasn't one that they'd discussed much.  April, Gail knew, would talk to Heather about some things, but mostly her natural reserve had taken over, and she'd swallowed her pain, refocusing it in her work and her drive to make sure the citizens of Jericho survived the winter.  And so, once again, April bit back her first impulse, acknowledging Gail's statement with a shake of the head.  "I know," she murmured finally, emitting a soft sigh.  "But, uh, do you think we could change the subject to … well, really, anything would probably be less awkward."

"Probably," Gail agreed with a tired chuckle.  "So," she prompted, as they both turned to head down the hallway toward the – these days – always bustling clinic.  "Did you get the chance to sleep last night?"

Stopping in her tracks, April glanced sideways at her mother-in-law.  "Oh my God!" she declared, making a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, though her tone was mostly admiring.  "That was such the super mom thing to say," she accused jokingly.  "Start off with the most uncomfortable, most awkward thing possible and then segue into the mildly nagging thing, so your kid's actually grateful that you at least dropped the first thing.  I'm gonna remember that one," she vowed.  "And use it!"

Gail shrugged, offering a smile that neither confirmed nor denied her daughter-in-law's hypothesis.  "And you're gonna be a great mother; that much is for sure."

"Thanks," April sighed.   "Luckily, I have two of the world's best as my role models," she reminded as they reached the main desk.  She reached for the clipboard on which the week's schedule was posted.  "Okay, you really aren't supposed to be here 'til noon," she informed Gail.  "So skulk away."

"Thanks, I think I will.  But don't think I haven't noticed that you didn't answer my question," Gail told her.  "Because, honey, you look tired.  Are you getting enough sleep?" she asked.

April's lips twitched before finally committing to a small smile.  "Almost seven hours," she declared.

"Where?" her mother-in-law returned immediately as April started to turn toward the clinic and her never-ending list of duties therein.

"In my office," she answered.

"Sleeping in your office doesn't count," Gail complained, following closely behind.  "You're gonna give the baby a crook in its neck."

April looked back over her shoulder, her grin now full size.  "You're gonna make a terrific grandmother," she announced.

Gail nodded.  She only wanted the chance to prove it.  "I know."

* * * * *

"You really don't hafta do this, Jeff," Jessica Williams argued to the young man's back as she hurried to catch up with him.  "I mean – I just mean, you don't hafta do me any favors, okay?"

Stopping, he glanced down and sideways, first catching her gaze and then rolling his eyes.  "What makes you think I'm doing this for you?" Jeff questioned, his chin jutting out as he crossed his arms over his chest.  "Maybe, I'm doing this for me," he suggested.  "We're way short on doctors around here, and you're a doctor.  Closer to one than me," he reminded.  "We put you into the rotation, maybe I get a night off."

"Yeah, that's just what you need," she returned, fighting a grin, "A night off."

"It is," he grumbled.  "We could all use a night off," he continued, "But you're gonna hafta go to the end of the line.  Low doc on the totem pole, ya know."

Jessica groaned.  "Yeah, there's nothing culturally offensive about that statement," she complained.

"I grew up in Alaska," Jeff countered, "I am allowed to make culturally offensive statements about totem poles.  Plus, moose, sled dogs and the aurora borealis."

"What?" she squeaked, "That doesn't – what could possibly be offensive about the aurora borealis?"

"Well, if insomniacs or people who're afraid of the dark have a group identity, maybe."

"I so could never go out with you," Jessica informed him, shaking her head.

"'Cause I grew up in Alaska?  That's pretty narrow-minded of you," he joked, offering her a grin that quickly faltered in the face of her frown. 

"Can you just be serious," she demanded, "For like two seconds?"

"Okay, fine," he muttered, "Serious.  First, you didn't break my heart, okay?  I mean, get over yourself already.  And second," Jeff continued, "We need the help around here.  We need your help," he amended with a sigh.  "And sure, you can keep earning your keep – your bed – doing scut work in the clinic.  Or you can be a doctor, which is what you really wanna be anyway, right?"

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin, neutral line.  "Yeah," she conceded.

"So then, I'll introduce you," Jeff promised, resuming his walk down the hall.  "And – for the record –" he told her as they moved together toward the center of the clinic, "I happen to live in what has been described as one 'swinging medical student bachelor pad', which is way better than your bed here.  Just sayin'," he finished.

Jessica rolled her eyes.  "I'm allergic to bachelor pads."

"Of course you are," he groaned, glad to spot April and Gail at the main desk.  "Okay, there she is," Jeff announced, cocking her head in the women's direction.  "C'mon."  He walked another ten feet, and then waved April over, calling her name.

"What's up?" she asked, adjusting the stethoscope she had draped around her neck.

Jeff glanced sideways at Jessica.  "Okay, go," he instructed.

She shot him a quick, annoyed glare, before turning to face April, a smile plastered on her face.  "Dr. Green?"

April nodded.  "Yes."

"Jessica Williams," she introduced herself, holding out her hand and adding, "Nice to meet you," as they shook.  "Mr. Ostrowski says he's having chest pain, but he doesn't want anyone to look at him but you."

"He chased me and Mike off, too," Jeff offered in corroboration.  "Wants to deal with the big cheese herself."

She snickered softly but otherwise ignored him in favor of Jessica.  "Are you the doctor who came in with the refugees?"  She had heard that the refugees' doctor was in the clinic – she'd come over from the church with two cases of pneumonia more than a week before – but April literally hadn't had time to seek the other woman out. 

"Close," Jessica shrugged.  "Third year med student, University of Chicago," she explained, "And I prefer 'visitor' to 'refugee'."

"I'm sorry," April apologized, attempting a smile.  "Thanks for the help."

"Don't thank me," the younger woman argued, "I'm just working here 'cause I get to sleep in a bed instead of the church basement."  She waited a beat before asking, "Where do I start?"

April led them back over to the main desk, pulling the first folder off a stack nearly a foot high.  "Pneumonia, malnutrition, hypothermia…" she cataloged, "Just grab a chart and pick a patient."

"You got it," Jessica acknowledged, accepting the medical chart from April.  "Just …. Don't forget about Mr. Ostrowski," she reminded before heading off to find her first patient.

"Introduce yourself as Dr. Williams," April called after her, "That's how we work around here."  She waited a moment, and then turned to face Jeff.  "So, she's interesting."

Jeff frowned gently.  "She's actually kinda cool, April.  You just have to get to know her.  Plus she's had it pretty rough since the bombs, so cut her some slack, okay?"

"Okay, okay," April returned, holding up both hands in a show of surrender.  "Trust me, I'll take pretty much any doctor who walks through the door," she reminded, "I'd still let Dr. Dhuwalia in the building if he'd just sober up and show up."

"Right," Jeff acknowledged.  For some reason – probably to do with his having saved Johnston's life – April had a soft spot for Kenchy Dhuwalia.  True, they disagreed on almost everything, medical and otherwise, but if you didn't count their constant bickering, they were actually quite compatible.  She seemed willing to forgive him both his demons and his complete inability to deal with them, and even though he'd been on a bender for most of the previous month and had only made it into the clinic for one shift in the last two weeks – eleven days ago – April, ever hopeful, still kept him on the schedule.  "Well, put Jessica in everywhere you've got Kenchy, and then if he comes in, it'll be a bonus," Jeff advised.

"Yeah," April sighed, "That's probably the way to go."

"Yup," Jeff confirmed.  "And then, when Kenchy's back from his vacation," he continued, making air quotes as he said the word 'vacation', "Maybe we can all get a night off on occasion?   Just sayin'…."

"Well, I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," she warned, "'Cause I may be on maternity leave before he comes back, and when that happens – my maternity leave – you're the one who's gonna be running this place.  Unless you'd prefer that I put Jessica in charge?" she asked, her tone teasing.

Jeff made a face.  "She's my friend and all, but still… I think I can handle it.  As long as you're comin' back," he added, "'Cause you are comin' back, right?"

"I'm coming back," April confirmed.  "I mean, I always knew that being a doctor probably meant I'd never get to be a stay-at-home mom," she chuckled self-consciously.  "And I was always good with that, mostly.  Besides, now, everything that's happened… it'd be even harder to justify."  She paused, frowning to herself before finally adding, "But the baby and the clinic are my priorities, so I'll just hafta find a way to balance and make it all work." 

"Well, you know there's lots of us who'll help you out with that," he said.  "But, I still don't know how to change diapers."

"Yeah, well, I hear there's gonna be a training class for that," she joked, "And as your boss, I makin' attendance mandatory."

"Must be nice to be the boss," he returned, grumbling in mock annoyance.

"That's really not the word I would use for it," April argued, shaking her head.  "But look.  While I'm out, you're gonna be in charge, okay?  Even if Dr. Dhuwalia makes a miraculous recovery and comes back, then you just tell him that he gets to be the brilliant doctor and surgeon and you'll handle all the administrative crap.  'Cause that is the word I use for it," she grumbled, "In my head."

He acknowledged her plan with a nod.  "Will do."

"Though what you should do is take every opportunity to learn from him," she advised.  "Okay?  'Cause he knows his stuff, and everything you need to know about surgery especially, he's the one who can give you that, not me," April insisted.  "But still, when the time comes, you're my back up, and you're in charge," she repeated.  "'Kay?"

"Okay," Jeff agreed, exhaling deeply.  "And thanks, April.  For you know, trusting me with your other baby," he grinned, glancing sideways at her.  "Hey, you okay?"  April was frowning and had her hand pressed into her side.  Doctor that she was, she was tenderly probing the spot, and there was something about her expression that worried him.  "April!" Jeff said loudly, trying to get her attention.  "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"It was – just a – just a weird little pain, or a poke, maybe," she explained, rubbing her hand gently over her still small pregnant belly.  "A poke, definitely," she declared.  There was a note of uncertainty in her tone, though she laughed it off in the next moment.  "I think this baby's saying enough of that long range, strategic planning –"

"Crap?" Jeff supplied, smirking softly.

April rolled her eyes.  "I was gonna say mumbo jumbo, but that works, too," she sighed.  "Obviously, she's not her father's daughter," April groused.  "Though I really shouldn't be saying things like that," she corrected herself with her next breath.

"Hey, you can say 'em to me," he argued.  "I mean, I hardly know the guy, and besides, he's clearly an idiot."

"Well, thank you for that, but he's really not.  Trust me, this'd all be easier if he were," she countered, frowning.  "Turns out he's just not quite the cautious, stable, always-working-on-his-five-year-plan lawyer I thought I'd married," she shrugged.  "And maybe this baby's just trying to tell me he's a boy and doesn't appreciate being called a girl all the time," April decided, folding her hands together over her child.  "So you can stop it with the weird poking, okay?" she requested, addressing her belly.  "I get the message."

"Well, that'd bug me," Jeff snorted.  "If you'd called me a girl, and if I'd – you know – understood English in utero."

"And you're saying that my baby doesn't?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips to further exaggerate her pretended annoyance.  

"Course not," he grinned.  "Your baby's a genius, probably speaks French and Italian too."

'That'd make her – or his – grandmother happy, anyway," April acknowledged, chuckling softly.  "So, since apparently we're gonna while away the morning chatting and letting Dr. Williams do all the work…you've been flirting with her?"

"What?" Jeff protested, his gaze darting around the clinic until it fell upon Gail who was standing outside one of the exam rooms, chatting with Doug Houghton, the history teacher from the high school.  "How'd you – she told you?"

"She did," April nodded, glancing over her shoulder to confirm that the 'she' in question was her mother-in-law.  "Because she cares about you," she insisted.  "Jeff, she came in three, four hours early today just so she could skulk around, see if she could figure out who it was that almost broke your heart.  She's worried about you." 

Jeff groaned at this new piece of intelligence.  "Seriously, she didn't break my heart."

"Look, Gail's in total mom mode today.  She already got me this morning, too," April admitted.  "And it's just because you're, you know, one of the Green kids now.  You've been officially adopted, so sometimes she's gonna interfere.  But really," she assured, "It's a small price to pay." 

"Fine," Jeff muttered.  "But… will you tell her?" he requested, "Just so she doesn't chat up Jessica, trying to figure out that who she's looking for is Jessica?"

"That I can do," she agreed. 

"Thanks.  And, speaking of the Green kids," he said, blinking hard as the lights flickered to life throughout the clinic.   "Here comes the original," Jeff announced, cocking his head toward the end of the hallway.  "Jake!" He called out, waving.

Jake hurried down the hall, dodging a couple of ambulatory patients and a volunteer carrying a precariously tall stack of clean linens.  "Hey," he greeted as he joined the other two.

"Happy birthday, man," Jeff said, offering Jake his hand and a lopsided grin.  "Sorry I missed you last night."

"Thanks," Jake replied easily, yanking off one of his bulky gloves – even a month after he'd been declared recovered from his hypothermia he found that it was hard to keep his extremities warm – so he could shake the younger man's hand.  "We were tired," he claimed, "So we turned in early.  Stanley keeps tellin' me I'm getting old, so that must be it."

April shook her head, valiantly fighting the smirk that was threatening to blossom on her lips.  "He went to bed before you made it home?" she asked, glancing at Jeff who nodded in confirmation.  "I'm so not touching that one with a ten foot pole," she informed her brother-in-law.

"Probably for the best," he agreed.

"The generator's back on," Gail declared, obviously relieved, as she joined the others.  Lights were blinking on all around them.

April smiled at her mother-in-law, sighing, "Thank God!"

"And his able assistant, " Gail suggested, gesturing at her son.  "See what you can accomplish when you get up early in the morning and commit to your day?" she teased him gently.

"Yeah, that's gotta be it," Jake agreed with a snort.  "'Cause you know what they say," he continued, rolling his eyes as he glanced back and forth between Jeff and April.   "'Early to bed, early to rise' –"

"'Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise'," his mother completed for him.

Jake groaned.  "She's been telling me that my whole life, but I'm still pretty sure there's no correlation.  And, I'm also pretty sure you shouldn't be thanking me," he told them, lowering his voice so only the three of them would hear him.  "'Cause that's it.  We're on our last tank of diesel.  Power's out to everything but the medical center."

"Our last tank?" April questioned, dismayed.  "How – how long will we have power?" she asked, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Ten, maybe twelve hours," Jake answered, resisting the urge to grit his teeth.  "If you turn off everything you're not using."

"That's two days according to the MOU," Jeff reminded, "And only if there're no emergencies." 

After the road gang attack on Jake, Stanley and Mimi, the Memorandum of Understanding between the medical center and the town council had been amended to include an exception for any life threatening medical emergencies involving local residents.  Eric had argued for more, reminding the council members that the staff at the clinic had all taken oaths that didn't allow them to discriminate against nonresidents, but even Ron Mortimer, his father's longtime ally, hadn't been willing to go that far.

"And that's a pretty big 'if'," April added, sighing.

"Okay, so we only run the bare essentials for three, four hours a day, and we pray for no accidents, heart attacks or strokes," Jeff suggested, "Then maybe we make it three more days."

"What about the biodiesel?" Gail asked. "There has to be something," she insisted, "We can't operate with no reserve."

Frustration flared in Jake's eyes, and it was enough to spur April into administrator mode.  "Jeff, start turning lights and equipment off, okay?  Right now.  You're in charge of that.  And everything's non-essential unless and until you or I say otherwise," she informed him.  "Got it?" 

"I'm on it," he agreed over his shoulder, already three steps down the hallway, already snapping off a light switch.

April watched Jeff for another few seconds, and then turned to face her brother-in-law.  "We'll figure it out and we'll make do," she assured him, squeezing his arm before finally letting her hand rest against her pregnant tummy.  "Okay?  No worries."
,
"Yeah," he nodded, exhaling deeply.  "Look, we've burned through it – the biodiesel, it's all gone," he clarified, glancing first at his mother and then at his sister-in-law.  "And April," Jake reminded, "You told Heather to get outta the manufacturing business, so she has."  His emitted a nervous bark of laughter, crossing his arms over his chest.  "And I – you know, thanks for that, 'cause I'd sure rather that my wife didn't accidentally poison herself and our kid before he's even born."

"Poison!" Gail protested, clearly appalled at the thought that her daughter-in-law and unborn grandchild had been in such danger.

"Well, the chances that she'd poison herself or even the baby are really quite small," April assured flashing him a sympathetic smile, "But why take the chance, especially with the baby," she stressed, "When there's so many other not pregnant people who could do it instead?"

"Absolutely," Jake agreed, "But that's also a problem.  Because, we don't have a line of people – anybody – volunteering for this work.  I've been pitching in the last few days, but it's just not my thing…." He trailed off, shaking his head.  "We're not gonna have any more for days," he told them, shrugging.  "I'm sorry."

"Then we'll make do," April repeated, her hands braced protectively over the child she carried.  "For a week or ten days, whatever we have to do… we'll do it."  She looked stunned, but still resolute.  "I'm gonna go help Jeff," she decided, frowning.  "Plus, I need to check Mr. Ostrowski before I forget him again," April remembered, groaning softly.  "But we are gonna make this work," she insisted.

Gail turned to face her son.  "Jake, I – I didn't realize that Heather helping – helping with –"

"Mom, it's okay," he interrupted, "We didn't either.  And, you know, when April told her she should stop – not that she needed any extra convincing – but apparently April was gonna sic you on Heather if it came to it," he informed her. 

"I suppose I do have a certain reputation," she replied, the tension in her voice and expression easing.  "Still, we need to come up with a plan," she told him, "We're getting more and more people in here every day."

"Ma, I know!" Jake was obviously frustrated.  "You think I don't want this place up and running?  Two, three months from –"

"Oh God!" Gail shouted, interrupting him, as she watched her daughter-in-law crumple to the floor.

Something had seemed wrong to Jake – something on the periphery of his vision – but he hadn't really noticed what was happening until his mother screamed.  Then though, he was off like a shot, reaching his sister-in-law's side within a few seconds. He dropped to the ground beside her, frantic as he checked her pulse, his gaze roaming over her form, trying to identify the cause of her collapse.  "April," he yelled, "April, can you hear me?"

"Is she breathing?" his mother demanded hoarsely, falling to her knees beside them.

Jake leaned in close over her.  "April, wake up," he ordered, but she didn't obey.

"Oh, honey!" his mother sobbed out, reaching out to cup his sister-in-law's face with one hand.

She wasn't coming to, and her pulse was so weak it was almost non-existent.  Jake felt his heart rising in his throat, but somehow he forced it down and he began shouting again.  "Jeff!  Anybody!  Get over here!"


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

Wednesday January 23, five years before the bombs


"Oh, God!  You scared me," Heather admitted, hand clutched to her chest and giggling at herself.  "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Looking for you, actually," April returned, chuckling.  "And I wasn't trying to sneak up on you.  I tried to make noise," she informed her friend.   "But you were totally daydreaming," she accused, her tone lilting.  "So, what – or should I say who – was it about?"

"She really did try to warn you she was coming," the woman who was behind Heather in line interjected, saving her from having to answer April's question, though not from the blush that bloomed on her cheeks.  "Stomped and everything."

"Thank you!" April declared, looking back over her shoulder.  "And I swear, I'm not trying to cut the line," she assured the other woman, who was fourth in line – Heather was third – for the pharmacist.  It appeared that only old man Williamson was working the back counter, and the line was slow-going as he moved from the cash register to pulling prescriptions to performing consultations for each customer.  "I'm just gonna keep her company, I don't need anything," April added, pausing a second as she finally, really looked at the other woman.  "I know you," she decided, surprised, "We went to high school together, didn't we?"

Nodding, the other woman hitched her toddler up on her hip.  "We did.  You're April, Principal Glendenning's daughter and you married Eric Green last summer, so I don't actually know your last name...?"

"Green," April supplied.  "I wasn't all that attached to my maiden name, plus my mom was already remarried, and you know, I was getting married.  You kinda want to commit to that," she explained with a shrug.  "And you're Sta –"

"Stephanie," the other woman corrected, smiling.  "And I know exactly what you mean," she added, "It's how I felt, too.  Back when you knew me, I was Stephanie Parsons but even then I knew I was gonna end up Stephanie Hyde."

"Right, Derek and Stephanie.  I'm sorry," April apologized, making a show of slapping her own hand.  "And it's probably really awful of me to admit this, but if I'd run into you with Derek, I'd have probably remembered your name right away.  She glanced at Heather.  "They were the couple at Jericho High back in the day."

"Oh, that's okay," the other woman dismissed.  "That's our reputation.  My own sister says that we're the youngest old married couple she's ever known, and she's right.  I mean, we've been together since we were both fifteen, so that's, like, over thirteen years now," she laughed, shaking her head at the thought.

"Something for the rest of us to aspire to," Heather offered, grinning. 

"You'd probably love it if I started referring to you and Jake as an old married couple," April teased her friend.  "Stephanie, this is Heather Lisinski, the new third grade teacher in town, and – more importantly to me, mostly because I don't have kids to send to school yet – Jake's fiancée," she introduced.  "They're getting married in July."

"Nice to meet you," Stephanie smiled, shifting her daughter from her side to her front, a move the toddler protested with a squawk before laying her head against her mother's shoulder and sticking her thumb in her mouth.  "And this is Katie," she said, planting a kiss on the girl's hairline.  "And this is –" she glanced down at her side and then quickly around the drugstore, the sudden tension in her posture easing when she spotted a little girl, three or four years old, carefully studying a cardboard display of Valentine's related paraphernalia about fifteen feet away.  "Amy Hyde," Stephanie called out, "Come back by me, please.  Right now."

Amy skipped back to her mother's side on command, beaming and holding up a cellophane wrapped packet for inspection.  "Stickers, Mama!" she chirped happily. 

"I see that," Stephanie chuckled, accepting the packet from her daughter.  "And, we need these stickers?" she inquired, flashing April and Heather a knowing smile.

"For Daddy," Amy insisted, nodding vigorously to emphasize her point.

"Well, we know Daddy love stickers," Stephanie agreed, affecting a serious tone.  She cupped the side of her daughter's face with one hand.  "Okay, tell you what, you be good and stay here with me the rest of the time we're here, and we can buy the stickers on the way out.  Okie dokie artichokie?"

"Okie dokie," Amy grinned.

Mr. Williamson called the next customer up to the counter and they all took a couple of steps forward.  "I loved stickers, had albums full of 'em when I was a kid," April offered, "That was a thing, remember?"

"Oh yes, we all had our sticker collections back then," Stephanie laughed.  "I was absolutely obsessed with Lisa Frank when I was nine, ten."

"Hey, I'm a teacher, so I still have a massive sticker collection," Heather informed them.

"Well, congratulations," Stephanie smiled.

"Congratulations?" Heather replied, puzzled.  "On my sticker collection?"

"Uh, on your engagement," Stephanie reminded. 

"Oh, right," Heather acknowledged with a tittering giggle.  "I'm really not this spacy, usually.  I swear."

"S'okay," Stephanie shrugged.  "Though, wow.  I mean, I read about everything with Jake and Jonah Prowse last summer.  I worked on the paper back in high school, so I still always read it," she explained.  "It's like you're required to take out a lifetime subscription when you stop volunteering –"

"Actually, that sounds like a pretty good business model," Heather joked.

"Yeah, really," Stephanie agreed, bouncing her daughter.  "But anyway, I read about Jake, and I'm pretty sure I read a profile of you back in September, October?"

"You did," Heather confirmed, "Lindsay Davis is in my class so her mother asked if she could interview me the first week of school.  That was a little weird," she confessed, shaking her head at the memory, "But Mrs. Davis is really nice.  And now, come Friday, you can read our engagement announcement in the Record."

"Then I certainly know what I'll be reading first this week," Stephanie teased.  "I usually go with the police blotter, 'cause Derek and I have this game where we try to identify which deputy took which call.  It's really not as lame as it sounds," she insisted, chuckling at herself.  "Though I'm pretty sure they all hafta take turns with the ones you know are Oliver Bruce.  Unless they arrest someone, there aren't any names," she explained, removing her baby's hand from her nose and kissing it, "But you can always tell which ones are him.  Nobody else is calling the police about mind reading aliens."

"Mind reading aliens?" Heather giggled.

"Our local conspiracy theorist," April clarified.  "And, actually, he doesn't trust law enforcement, so he's more likely to call Johnston – and now Eric – than into the sheriff's station.  Every once in a while they get exasperated enough to entertain us all at Sunday dinner with the 'Oliver Update'.  Not all that often," she told Heather, "Since you haven't heard one yet.  Actually, it's a sad story," April sighed, frowning gently.  "He was this brilliant ag economist, teaching in Manhattan, and then he was badly injured in a car accident that killed his wife.  Went a little crazy, and so when he got out of the hospital, his father brought him back to Jericho.  He's Gracie Leigh's cousin, so I guess she at least makes sure he has food, though a lotta the time he just cusses her out when she takes groceries over."

Stephanie's expression had turned perturbed.  "I didn't know all that," she admitted, resting her cheek on top of her daughter's head.  "Especially about Gracie Leigh."

"See?" April said to Heather, "These are the joys of being related to the mayor."

"I'm still learning what I'm getting myself into," Heather informed Stephanie, offering her a sympathetic smile.  "Luckily, April's blazed all this territory before me."

"It's still sounds so crazy to me," Stephanie declared, tightening her grip on Amy's hand as the little girl leaned away, singing softly to herself.  "First Jake Green takes down Jonah Prowse's criminal empire from the inside, and now it turns out he recruited the new third grade teacher, too?  I mean, were you guys dating while he was undercover?  That's gotta be so weird," she mused.

"Oh!" Heather exclaimed, "No!  I didn't meet Jake 'til after I was already hired at the school.  And, he wasn't working undercover by then, either.  We just …" she shrugged, "Met one day.  Actually, he stopped to help me change a tire, and things just went from there."

"They've had a very whirlwind romance," April added, her tone teasing.

Heather blushed prettily.  "Well, we kinda just clicked from the beginning," she told them.  "And we only got engaged at New Year's."

"Nothing wrong with clicking," Stephanie returned, smiling over the top of her daughter's head.  "Derek and I were like that, too.  I just knew, you know?  But – cautionary tale – when I was sixteen and told my dad that I was gonna marry Derek, it got me grounded for a month," she chuckled.  "Probably should've mentioned that I was thinking six, seven years down the road.  Then, maybe, he would've taken it better."

Amy tugged on her mother's sleeve.  "I wanna go home," she whined.

"Well, we have to get sissy's medicine first," Stephanie reminded, just as Mr. Williamson called up the man who was in front of Heather in the line.  "See, now we're second."

"She's sick?" Heather questioned, her head cocked toward the bundled up little girl.  "You can go in front of me," she offered quickly.

"Oh, you don't hafta do that," Stephanie protested.

"Seriously, switch places with me," Heather insisted, "I mean… sick baby."          

"Are you sure?  It's just an ear infection.  Her seventh," Stephanie confided, letting out an exasperated breath.  "And she doesn't even turn two 'til next month.  We're pretty used to the drill by now." 

"Seven!" April repeated, surprised.  "That's a lot.  And ear infections are no fun – for you or for her.  What does your doctor say?"

"Dr. Peterson says he wants her to get tubes," she answered, "But I don't know that I want to subject a baby – my baby – to surgery."

"But it's really a safe surgery," April argued, "And you don't want her in pain all the time, either, right?  Both my sisters had tubes before they were three," she told Stephanie, "So, trust me, this is totally tried and true, old school surgery.  She'll have it in the morning and you'll be headed home by lunchtime," April assured, smiling encouragingly.  "And I have a colleague in Rogue River, Dr. Quigley – Bob Quigley – who's really good.  It's all he does, tubes and tonsils."

Stephanie nodded.  "Dr. Quigley… I'm pretty sure that's who Dr. Peterson recommended, so that makes me feel better."

"I'm just surprised he didn't recommend tubes awhile back," April said, frowning sympathetically at little Katie.  "Seven ear infections."

"Well, he first suggested it last summer, when she was only eighteen months," Stephanie admitted.  "And then we were fine, really, until Thanksgiving.  But then it was boom, boom, boom.  Three in a row."

"Three in three months is definitely chronic," April advised.  "And my unsolicited, second opinion is that you should at least go see Dr. Quigley.  You'll like him, I swear," she promised, offering Stephanie an encouraging smile.  "He's a real teddy bear, and he great with kids.  Heck, he's great with parents, too," she joked.

"You must think I'm such a bad mother," Stephanie sighed.  "Letting my baby get seven ear infections and not trying to do anything about it."

April shook her head.  "I don't think you're a bad mother," she assured.  "A bad mother is the woman who was in the ER last night after she drank, drove and crashed into a tree with her kids in the car.  She had superficial cuts and bruises, but her kids were both headed for up for surgery.  Broken bones, internal bleeding, the usual.  That's a bad mother," she repeated.

"Oh, God, that's awful," Heather frowned.

"Yeah," April agreed, "And it's always the cases with kids that get to me.  We had another cup of noodles case last night, too.  But that's not bad parenting, it's just not knowing, not thinking," she sighed.

"What's a cup of noodles case?" Stephanie asked.

"You know, parents give their three, four year old kids those Styrofoam cups of noodles filled to the brim with boiling water, and then the kid being a kid, knocks it over into their lap and ends up with second, third degree burns on the groin and legs.  I hate those cups," April grumbled, expelling a frustrated breath.  "Last night it was a three year old girl and her distraught twenty one, twenty two year old dad.  The mom had gotten an extra shift at McDonalds, and he'd been late getting the little girl from the sitter's so he was trying to give her a treat so she wouldn't fight him on going to bed."

"Oh God, that happens?"  Stephanie yelped, clearly horrified at the thought.  She glanced down at her daughter, tugging on her hand so that the little girl was forced to take a half step closer.  "Amy loves those things," she told April, meeting her gaze.  "What – what –"

"Just don't give it to her in the cup, especially the tall, skinny ones, they're way easier for the kiddoes to knock over," April advised quickly.  "Just – just let it steep for a few minutes so it's still not boiling and pour it into a nice, short bowl.  Takes away like ninety five – ninety nine – percent of the danger, okay?"

"Okay, that makes sense," Stephanie nodded.  She still looked a little shaken, but somehow she managed to take a deep breath and paste on a smile.  "And I guess we know what I'm telling Daddy when we get home," she informed her daughter.  "No cup of noodles in the cup!"

Mr. Williamson called for the next customer then, and Heather stepped to the side, gesturing for Stephanie to proceed.  "Go, please.  Sick baby," she reminded, "I insist."

"Well, thank you," the other woman sighed.  "This won't take long," she promised, steering her daughter past Heather and April.  "Like I said, we know the drill."

"So, rough night at work?" Heather inquired, her expression concerned.

"Yeah," she acknowledged, "And I realized about halfway through saying all that, that saying all that to someone I haven't seen in more than ten years when she's standing there with her kids probably wasn't the best idea," April groaned, shaking her head at herself.  "What was I thinking?"

"You're tired," Heather diagnosed immediately, "And it's okay, it really wasn't that bad.  I'm sure she's much happier to know what could happen so she can keep it from happening to her kids.  I mean, I've never heard of that –"

"Nobody has," April muttered, "Outside of the ER.  And, it's such a preventable accident."

"Well trust me, I'll be emailing my sisters-in-law tonight," Heather told her friend.  "And, seven, eight, nine years from now when I have a three year old?  Cup of noodles are totally banned from the house," she declared.

"They're banned from my house now," April countered, yawning.

"What are you even doing here?" Heather asked.  "Haven't you literally been working since I last saw you?"

"Yeah, pretty much," April agreed.  "But I was off at noon, and I got a nap in this afternoon.  Two and a half hours, so I'm good 'til tonight," she insisted, yawning again.  "Eric's taking me to dinner –"

"Nice!"

April nodded.  "It really is.  Especially since while Jake got to spend his birthday weekend playing in Jackson Hole with you," she emphasized, grinning as Heather's blush returned immediately, "Eric had to spend his entertaining my family.  Not that he minded," she admitted.  "I actually minded way more than he did.  And, I told Mom that it wasn't a good weekend, but then she just talked to Eric and he said they should come, so they did."

"She was excited to see your new house," Heather reminded, "She told me that, like, three times."

"I know," April sighed, "And I should just be glad that he loves my family as much as I love his, but still.  He wants to go out tonight, so we're goin' out."

"Where's –" Heather began, only to be interrupted by Mr. Williamson, calling her up.  "Be right back," she promised.  April watched as she hurried toward the pharmacy counter, pausing for a few seconds to exchange pleasantries with Stephanie as the two of them traded places.

"And thank you, too," Stephanie said, joining April who was now standing next to a revolving rack of non-prescription reading glasses.  "I think I'm going to take your advice on the tubes," she declared.  "Plus, tell Derek what you said so he'll nag me and not let me back out," she added, allowing a frustrated chuckle that was clearly aimed at herself.

"Just call Dr. Peterson's office, I'm sure DeAnne will be happy to make all the arrangements with Dr. Quigley's office," April suggested.  "And I'm sorry about the whole cup of noodles thing," she apologized quickly, "That's not really how I want to go about renewing acquaintances."

"Oh, don't apologize for that," Stephanie contradicted with a tight smile.  "I'd rather find out it's a problem from you now than sometime later in the ER," she assured.

"Dr. Green?" Mr. Williamson inquired loudly from the counter, his expression quizzical.  He pointed at Heather.  "Do you –"

"It's a complete coincidence that I'm here," she called back.  "Go ahead and fill the script as written," April instructed.  "And that was a total lie," she added in the next beat, dropping her voice so only Stephanie could hear.  "Something tells me it's gonna be an issue if I'm still her doctor when we have the same last name.  Though," she confided, "I've written prescriptions for both Eric and Johnston since we got married and he didn't bat an eye over those."

"Something it would never occur to me to think about," Stephanie laughed gently.  "Is it all right if I ask – do you have an office in Jericho, or how does that work?"

April smiled.  "You can definitely ask.  And, I'm in the last throes of my residency, so I don't have an office in Jericho yet, but I will.  It's still all being negotiated.  One of the reasons I'm glad I married a lawyer," she joked.  "Eric's handling all the nitty-gritty details, but if things shape up like I'm hoping, starting in the summer, I'll actually be sharing Dr. Peterson's suite, plus working in the clinic and ER at the med center.  So, August probably, because of Jake's and Heather's wedding, plus I could really use some time off between jobs," she admitted with a chuckle.

"So, if I wanted to switch to you for me and the girls, would that be okay or awkward?" Stephanie questioned.

"A little bit of both, honestly," April sighed, her grin faltering.  "I mean, personally, I'm honored that you'd ask.  But right now, that's all a part of the negotiations.  Things like how much of Dr. Peterson's current patient load is he willing to direct my way, what do I need to drum up on my own, how many more holidays in a row do I need to work before my dues are finally paid."

"Okay then," Stephanie nodded, "How 'bout I just wait 'til August or September and ask the question again?"

"That works," April declared.  "And seriously, the fact that you're even considering it… completely makes my day."

"Well, it's somewhat selfish on my part," Stephanie admitted, allowing an embarrassed laugh.  "I like Dr. Peterson – I mean, he's been my doctor since I was a little girl.  But I also figure that it'd be nice to have a doctor who's a woman – who I can talk to like a woman, as a friend – and who can be my doctor for the next thirty, forty years instead of retiring on me in, like, ten."

"Makes sense to me," April returned.  "And I'm just really excited that I may have my first private practice patient that I'm not related to," she joked, making a show of clapping her hands quietly together.

"Mama!" Amy interrupted, tugging on her mother's sleeve.  "We need to get stickers now," she insisted.

"Oh, so you think you've been a good girl?" Stephanie questioned, peering down at her daughter.

Amy's answer was emphatic.  "Uh-huh!" 

"I see," Stephanie acknowledged.  She glanced at April, a twinkle in her eye.  "And do you think she's been a good girl, Dr. Green?"

"I do," April confirmed with a smile.  "Good as gold."

Heather joined their little knot then, and Stephanie turned to her for her vote.  "And do you….well, you'll be Mrs. Green by the time it matters to Amy and I forgot your last name," she admitted, "So do you, future Mrs. Green, think that Amy's been a good girl?"

"Abso-tutley!" Heather proclaimed, grinning.  "And I'll be Mrs. Green in a hundred seventy days, which – I'm pretty sure – is before you hafta go to Kindergarten," she informed Amy, her tone overly serious.

"Mom?" Amy asked, sounding worried.

"You're gonna like Kindergarten, sweets," Stephanie promised, letting her hand rest on top of her daughter's head for a moment.  "We're putting her in the preschool program at Main Street PC in September," she explained to Heather and April.  "Just three days a week, in the mornings, so the next year she'll be all set to head off to Jericho Elementary."

"I think that's a really good plan," Heather assured.

"Thanks," Stephanie sighed.  "And it is unanimous," she announced a beat later, "We all think that Amy's been a good girl.  So I guess we need to go buy us some stickers," she decided, cupping her daughter's head with one hand.  "And I will now predict that Derek comes to bed tonight with a pink heart that labels him a 'cutie pie' stuck to his forehead," she joked.

"That’s adorable," Heather smiled.

"It really is," Stephanie agreed, "He's a good dad."

"And who knows, maybe it'll say 'hot stuff' instead," April teased.

"Oh, if I'm at all lucky, it so will," Stephanie laughed.  "And on that note… it was good to meet you, Heather, and I'm really glad I ran into you, April.  Hopefully it will not be September before we talk again," she said, shooting her a significant look.  "Okay, let's go," she continued a second later, smiling and pointing her daughter toward the front cash register.

Heather and April watched as the Hydes hurried off to purchase their stickers.  "I like her," Heather declared, turning to look at her friend.  "She's nice."

"She is," April agreed.  "She was nice in high school.  She was a year ahead of me, so we didn't have that much to do with one another.  I mean, Derek and I at least had physics class together, with Eric and Jake and five other boys, because I was the only girl in the class," she explained, rolling her eyes.  "It made my mother as mad as it's making you," April added, smiling at Heather's outraged expression.  "But Stephanie, at least, was one of the girls who'd include me in stuff.  Not everyone did," she admitted.  "And now she wants to be my first private practice patient that I'm not related to."

"That's really cool," Heather grinned, "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"So, you were looking for me?" Heather asked, tucking the little white bag that contained her prescription into her purse.  "You said that back when you first snuck up on me," she reminded, chuckling softly.

"I wasn't sneaking," April argued, "But I was looking for you," she confirmed.  She glanced around the pharmacy, which was now empty aside from Mr. Williamson, the twenty-something cashier at the front counter, the Hydes, the two of them, and a middle-aged man who had just come through the door.  "Look, uh, why don't we go outside?"

"Okay," Heather agreed, though she was clearly confused by the request.  Still, she followed April out of the pharmacy and down the sidewalk about ten feet.  "So what's up?" she demanded, turning around to face her friend.

"Did Mr. Williamson ask you if you were taking any other medication?" April inquired.  "Or talk about adverse drug interactions with the amoxicillin?"

"Well, he said to call you if I had trouble breathing or developed hives or a rash," Heather catalogued.  "And he said to take it with food, because sometimes it causes stomach upset," she added, starting to dig into her purse.  "There's a leaflet in the bag."

"But he didn't ask if you were on an oral contraceptive, or mention that some antibiotics, this one included, can reduce the effectiveness of oral contraceptives?"

Heather's eyes grew alarmingly wide, and she stopped rifling through her bag.  "Uh, no," she squeaked.  "That – that can – can happen?"

"Oh, yeah," April confirmed, letting out a long breath.  "I forget that not everyone knows this – and that isn't a slam, I swear," she insisted.  "Obviously, it's not as well-known as it should be because I'm personally aware of more than one baby conceived during a course of antibiotics."

"Most of what I know about the birds and the bees was taught to me by nuns," Heather reminded, momentarily pursing her lips.  "So they actually talked about things in terms of the birds and the bees.  And the human part was all, like, interior to the body, shall we say?  But definitely no birth control," she muttered, "Not even the Catholic Church approved kind, and they definitely assumed abstinence until marriage."

"Right," April acknowledged with a nod.  "That's what I kinda figured this morning when I was faxing in your prescription.  And I also assumed you'd really rather not be walking down the aisle six months pregnant?" she concluded, waving to Stephanie as she backed out of her parking spot in front of the pharmacy.

"You assume correctly," Heather returned, giggling nervously.  "I mean, it has come up… mostly because, when we were in Buffalo, my brothers kept accusing me of being pregnant," she grumbled. "So, yeah, it came up."

"Oh dear," April commiserated.

"Yeah, well… we basically decided that if it happens, then it happens and we'll figure it out," she explained, expelling a deep breath.  "But hopefully it doesn't happen for a long time, 'cause we're really not planning to start a family for at least a coupl'a years.  Jake – he says we'll let you guys have the first crack at that."

"Well, thanks," April chuckled, "I think."

"Sorry," Heather apologized immediately, "That's not exactly how I meant to say that.  It's just –"

"It's okay, really," her friend interrupted.  "And, actually, that's what Eric thinks I'm doing over here, so…."

"What you're doing over here?" Heather repeated, confused.  "Whaddya mean?"

"I was meeting him at his office, but I got there early and Johnston was dragging him into a meeting," April explained, "So I told him I needed to run over to the pharmacy anyway, and I could just tell from his expression that he's hoping I'm over here to get a pregnancy test, that's all," she concluded, heaving a sigh.

"So… do you need to get a pregnancy test?" Heather inquired, her voice pitched low.  It was clear she was fighting a smile.

A small grin twisted April's lips, but she shook her head, denying the possibility.  "No, not really.  I mean, I don't really want to be six months pregnant at your wedding, either," she argued.  "Maternity bridesmaid dress," she said, making a face, "That a frightening concept.  It's just… we're living between two houses right now," she reminded, "And I use a diaphragm, which is proving to not always be convenient, that's all."

Her statement hung meaningfully between the two of them for a long moment before Heather could react.  "I see.   So I take it that means you two found time to christen your own living room, huh?" she teased, blushing softly.

"Something like that," April admitted, allowing a small smile.  "But it wasn't that much of a risk, trust me.  I would've nixed things if it had been.  And under no circumstances would I ever be over here buying a pregnancy test," she groaned, "Not when Gail'd know all about it before we even made it home tonight, and not when I work in a hospital where I can draw my own blood, send it to the lab under the name 'Minnie Mouse' or whatever, and have the results back in a couple of hours, all without becoming grist for the Jericho rumor mill."

"Makes perfect sense to me," the younger woman returned.   "And – you know – thanks for warning me about the – the drug interaction," she added, "'Cause I'd really rather not go through the rumor mill either."

"I'm sorry, I should've told you earlier that this issue could come up," April apologized, chiding herself.  Heather had phoned the previous afternoon, during lunch, to report that she was pretty sure she had a urinary tract infection, and could April write her a prescription?  April had agreed, pending the results of the lab test she'd ordered for Heather and that she could take after school at the Jericho Medical Center.  The results had come back positive that morning, and April had faxed a prescription to the pharmacy in Jericho and then had left a message to let Heather know she could pick it up any time after three in the afternoon.  "But I was tired and didn't think of it when we first talked, and then I didn't want to leave it in a voicemail," she explained.

"No, I totally appreciate that," Heather assured, sighing softly.  "So, we'll just avoid – you know –"

"You don't actually have to avoid anything," April interrupted, offering Heather a knowing smile.  She reached into her own purse then, producing a small, almost flat, white paper bag with blue lettering that proclaimed 'Fillmore County Regional Medical Center'.  "You just have to… supplement," she decided, handing the bag to Heather.  "Which is why I put together a little care package to get you started," April explained, "Though you'll want to mention the situation to Jake, preferably before he gets home, just in case he –"

"Oh God," Heather yelped, quickly folding the top of the bag closed three times before shoving it into her purse.  She didn't really know what she'd expected to see inside – dried cranberry powder, maybe? – but certainly two strips of condoms had never crossed her mind.  "Well, okay, yeah….  I'll, uh, I'll talk to him," she promised.  "Uh, thanks."

"You're welcome," April replied, studying her friend closely.  Heather tended to blush at the drop of a hat – or the mere mention of Jake's name – but this was way more than her usual, glowing rosiness; she had practically turned purple.  "You guys have talked about this stuff, right?  I mean, you at least know that you don't want kids yet," she reminded, "So, birth control has come up, right?"

Heather's nod was forceful.  "Of course we've talked about it.  It's just I'm on the pill, so that made the conversation pretty easy – and pretty short.  And it's not that I think I can't talk to him about this stuff….  I can – I know I can," she insisted, squaring her shoulders.  "After last weekend, I'm pretty sure we can talk about anything," Heather confessed, the slightest of smiles turning up the corners of her mouth.  "Because we did.  I mean, we talked about so much….  Things that I didn't know people ever talked about.  You know, really personal stuff.  But it was, like, personal to both of us – or personal to us together, as a couple."  She paused, frowning gently.  "Does that make sense?" Heather questioned, meeting April's eye.  "This is just still all really new for me."

"It makes sense to me," April assured, "Perfect sense.  And that sounds like a pretty good definition of intimacy, actually," she continued, explaining, "Those things that are personal to you together as a couple, I mean."

"That's the right word for it, I think," Heather sighed, "Intimacy.  It was like we were under this … magical spell.  We – we never even went skiing," she admitted, her expression turning sheepish.  "We – we barely left the hotel room. Just twice," she added, "From Friday night 'til Monday morning."

Her friend smiled widely.  "I see."

"And, it wasn't just sex," Heather argued, looking around and dropping her voice so that it was barely audible, especially on the last word.  They were alone out on the sidewalk this evening – it was already dusk and all of thirty five degrees out – but clearly she wasn't taking any chances.  "I mean, we did that.  But we also spent a lot of the time just talking," she repeated, "And that part was just as – as amazing."

"Hey, I'm a big fan of talking," April claimed, grinning.  "Especially 'nekkid' talking," she teased.  "It's bonding.  Like physiologically speaking," she continued, clearing her throat and affecting a professional tone.  "Skin to skin contact," she clarified, "We use it with moms and new babies – preemies especially – in the hospital.  And obviously it's just as effective with your chosen life partner in some swanky resort hotel in Jackson Hole," April teased, "Or in my case, a roadside motel in Somewhere, Kansas."

"Oh?" Heather returned folding her arms together, one eyebrow raised in question.

"We road trip, you know?" she shrugged.  "I mean, my parents are in Topeka, Eric's family's here.  He went to law school in Lawrence, I went to med school in Kansas City….  Well, I spent my fourth year in Wichita," she corrected, "In the rural medicine program, and then Eric moved there too, to clerk for the US District Court."

"Really?" Heather interjected, "That's cool."

"Yeah, it was," April confirmed.  "That was a great year, actually.  And then, when I moved to Rogue River for my residency, he moved back to Jericho to work for his dad, for the town.  But basically, we've spent the last four – four and a half – years all over the state… and that means road trips."

Heather nodded.  She'd known some of this, from things that April or Eric or the rest of the Greens had said, but certainly not all of it.  "So – just curious – were you guys living together in Wichita?  Jake said you basically were in Rogue River."

"In Wichita?" April repeated, "Not officially.  But I had three roommates – all fellow med students – in a two bedroom apartment, while Eric had a studio all to himself.  Guess what? I spent a lot of time at his place.  Not that that didn't have its awkward moments," she chuckled self-consciously, "Especially the first and last time Gail and Johnston showed up unannounced for the weekend."

"Oh, wow," Heather murmured.

"Oh, wow, is right," April returned, shaking her head.  "And, it's not like they were planning to stay there, and they didn't even walk in on anything, really.  But I did have my textbooks all over the table, and we were both still in our PJs, at like, noon, and Eric was getting ready to take both our laundry downstairs…."  She let out a soft groan.   "In the end it was okay.  I mean, they already knew we were dating – knew we were both living in Wichita – but I don't think they were quite used to thinking about Eric like that, like an adult," she admitted.  "And, I know, to you, it's gotta seem totally unfair –"

"Nah, it's okay," Heather dismissed with an offhand wave.  "I mean, even if the school board and Gramps and Gail and Johnston didn't have their opinion, my dad would still have his, right?" she reasoned.  "And, none of my brothers lived with their wives before they got married.  Not unless you count the two weeks pre-wedding that one or the other of them was living in their married apartment, and the one who supposedly wasn't living there yet was actually there all the time helping 'set up', if that makes any sense."

"I think I got it," April grinned.

"Basically what I'm saying is that they were all discreet," she declared, "So, Jake and I, we're being discreet, too. Plus, I'm starting to think he sees it as a challenge.  Like exactly how late can he stay before tongues start wagging all over town?" Heather joked.

"That's really kind of amazing, you know," April sighed.  "I mean, before you, Jake's attitude was always kinda 'screw this town'.  He didn't care what people thought.  And now, he's trying to thwart the gossips.  Which just goes to show how much he loves you," she concluded.

"Yeah," Heather smiled, "But thwart or outsmart?  Not that it really matters to me.  None of it does.  We do what we hafta do, 'cause it's only six months, right?"

"Right," April agreed, "Plus, this is why you get taken to fancy-shmancy resorts for the weekend, and all I get is single nights at the Super Eight outside Salina."

"The Super Eight outside of Salina?"

 "Yeah, slightly pathetic, I know," she chuckled.  "It's just, we always end up leaving Topeka or Lawrence so late that – two hours later – it's really easy to convince ourselves that we'll just sleep a few hours and then get back on the road before sun up."

"Doesn't quite work out that way, huh?" Heather teased, offering April a knowing smirk that would have done her fiancé proud.  "I find that soooo hard to believe."

"It's not always our fault," April defended, giggling.  "I mean, last September, coming home from my parents', we got the last room, the one they try to never, ever rent.  And the desk clerk warned us that the elevator equipment was on one side of the room, and the pool equipment was on the other," she explained, groaning softly at the memory.  "It was as bad as they said.  Worse.  So, we decided to make the best of the situation, that's all.  Plus hit the McDonald's drive thru at three AM," she recalled with a smile.  "Not that I didn't totally pay for it the next day at work…. But still, given the right set of circumstances, I'd rent room one twenty three again," she laughed.

Heather grinned at her friend.  "I bet you would," she snorted.  "Okay, so, you know … we kept ordering room service," she confided a beat later.  "Like, nine, ten times.  And, yeah, I hid in the bathroom each time the waiter showed up, but still.  Actually, the whole thing was totally fancy-schmancy – there was a fireplace and a Jacuzzi tub in our room," she bragged.

"Okay, now I'm jealous," April informed her friend, shaking her head.  "They've never even heard of room service at the Super Eight.  They barely have vending machines," she groused.  "It's just too bad I can't tell Eric all of this," she sighed,  "Get him to up his game a little."

"April, you can't!" Heather protested, "I – if – if he ever said anything to Jake…" she trailed off for a moment, shaking her head at the thought.  "I think he'd be really hurt.  He's okay – I hope so, anyway – but he's okay with me talking to you," she insisted.  "He teases me about it sometimes, that I need 'girl talk', but –"

"No, I know.  I get it," April interrupted.  "Eric and Jake…. Sometimes they're as bad as Cain and Abel.  They both drive me so crazy sometimes," she complained, rolling her eyes.  "You know, when everything came out about Jonah Prowse, I was so relieved – so happy.  We all were.  Except not so much – not completely – Eric," she admitted.  "We were happy that it was all a lie, that Jake wasn't really this wayward criminal.  But Eric… he was just so mad that he'd lied, kept asking how we could just forgive the lying.  I had to threaten to call off the wedding just so he'd let Jake be a co-best man."

Nodding absently, she let the implications of April's admission sink in.  "You know," Heather confessed, chewing her lip, "He hasn't said anything, and he's going along with it… but I think Jake feels a little bit like I forced him to make Eric a co-best man for our wedding too, just by asking you to be an MOH."

"Probably," April agreed, "But we do these things for their own good.  A little sibling rivalry is completely normal, but those two really need to let a few things go."

"Yeah," Heather muttered.  "Would you have really called off your wedding?"

"No.  And he knew that," April sighed, "But at least it convinced him of the depth of my feeling on the matter.  Anyway," she added, "That's not anything we're gonna solve tonight."

"Probably not," Heather conceded with a wry grin.

"Okay," April declared throwing her shoulders back so she stood a little taller.  "It's cold out here, and I have, like, three or four more things that I hafta tell you before we bring this meeting of the 'It Ain't Easy Bein' Green' club to a close."

"So, this," Heather said, gesturing back and forth between the two of them, "Qualifies as a meeting of your secret society?"

April made an indignant noise.  "Our secret society," she insisted.  "Look, we've discussed keeping up appearances and keeping the peace.  Which – that's like our charter, because – trust me – fifty years from now, you and I are still gonna be running interference between our husbands.  And our kids and grandkids, too, probably."

"Well, they will all be Greens, right?" her friend chuckled.

"Exactly," April confirmed.  "So, is it all right if we walk back toward town hall?" she requested, "And talk?  It's just I'd be remiss as your doctor if I didn't cover a few things with you."

Heather groaned softly.  "There's more?  I mean, besides what I can read in my pamphlet and – you know – 'use the care package'?"

"Yes," April answered simply.

"Sure, let's walk," Heather sighed.

They fell into step beside one another, heading up Main Street toward town hall.  "So," April began, once their pace – slower than either of them would have walked on their own – was established.  "You do know that, in my line of work, we have another name for urinary tract infection, right?"  She paused a moment, but Heather didn't respond.  "We call it honeymooner's disease," April supplied finally, "Mostly because UTIs can be caused by a certain repetitive activity, long associated with honeymooning."

Heather stopped in her tracks, right beneath a street light which illuminated the blush that reddened her face, creeping up past her hairline, out to the tips of her ears, and down her neck.  "I've had UTIs before, April," she whispered insistently.   "I had – I had, like, four last year when I – when I was a – a student teacher," she stammered, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

"Hey, agreed," April returned, rotating around so she was once again facing her friend.  "Absolutely, UTIs are super common amongst teachers," she added, holding her hands up in an 'I come in peace' gesture.  "Mostly because none of you go to the bathroom as often as you should during the day, and then because you aren't going to the bathroom when you need to, you also don't drink water all day," she explained, prompting a reluctant nod from Heather.  "And really, all I'm sayin' is, if you're gonna spend three straight days in a hotel room, then you need to drink lots of water and pee regularly, okay?"

"Sure," Heather mumbled, looking down at her feet.  "That’s good – good advice.  Thanks."

"You're welcome.  But that's not the only advice I have for you," she cautioned.

"Okay…."  Heather's tone was hesitant.

April flashed a sympathetic smile.  "First, just breathe, okay?" she ordered, waiting until Heather did indeed suck a long breath in through her teeth.  "Good.  Okay, so my next bit of advice is to tell Jake about what's going on.  At the very least you need to tell him about the antibiotics and the condoms," she amended, "Because birth control is both your responsibility, not just yours.  And also because I'm told that some guys have their preferences as to, uh, brand and type," April added, "So, I don't know, Jake might wanna do some shopping while he's in Denver rather than relying on what I found in the giveaway cabinet at work," she finished.

Her eyes scrunched closed, Heather nodded in acknowledgment.  "Yeah, okay, that – that makes sense.  Shopping in Denver instead of Jericho, I mean," she clarified, exhaling audibly as she met April's concerned gaze.

"It's certainly the more discreet way to go," April offered.  "And, so, you're gonna need to use condoms for as long as you're taking the amoxicillin, plus another week – two, if you want to be super, super safe."

"Which I do," Heather assured, inhaling deeply.  She took a step forward, declaring, "We do."

"Thought so," April said, matching her friend's stride.  "Okay so, last thing…" she began a few seconds later, laying her hand on Heather's arm.  "For the next few days at least – a week, maybe – good old 'insert tab A into slot B' will probably be pretty uncomfortable for you –"

"Oh God," Heather moaned, halting once more mid-step.  She ducked her head, all of her concentration suddenly trained on her boots.

"Yeah, I really wasn't sure whether to go euphemistic or clinical there," April admitted, her nose wrinkling. 

Heather glanced up from her feet.  "Well, don't switch now," she instructed, emitting a rather shell-shocked giggle.  "Just – just stick with euphemistic."

"Will do," April sighed.  "And, hey," she offered brightly, "Just think of it as an opportunity to explore other options… to expand your horizons."

"Well, we've explored plenty, already," Heather returned almost primly a few seconds later.  She started to chuckle quietly, shaking her head at herself and letting out a slow breath.  "I – We'll be fine," she declared, "Like I said, I'm pretty sure we can talk about anything."

April nodded.  "Good."

"And, thanks for the advice," Heather continued.  "All of it.  Really.  Even the parts I kinda freaked out about.  I do – I do appreciate it.  Thanks," she repeated.

"You're welcome.  And, like you said, this is all new for you," April reminded.  "Well, it's new for me, too.  Having a patient who's also my friend and also a family member," she explained.  "I don't want to mess up on any of those aspects of our relationship."

"Right," Heather acknowledged, "Me either.  Though that does make me imagine having the conversation with my family doctor back in Buffalo," she admitted, allowing a self-conscious chuckle.  "Incidentally, the last person to write me a prescription for amoxicillin," she chuckled.  "Dr. Panchik's, like, my dad's age.  And, he's the father of a girl I went to school with – had sleepovers with.  He used to ask me about my grades, and then write them into my chart.  So what I'm sayin' is, it would've been a million times worse to have had this conversation with him."

"Oh, yeah," April commiserated, "Seriously.  Though, that grades thing?" she smiled, "I like that.  That's the kind of doctor I wanna be."

"And you totally will be," Heather assured.  "Though, in fifteen years, when my kids are coming to see Doctor Auntie April, they'll probably be complaining to you about how they didn't get extra credit for their bottle rocket science experiment."

"What does that even mean?" April laughed, clearly confused. 

"It's not important," Heather dismissed.

April acknowledged her statement with a shrug.  "Okay.  And, hey, there's Eric," she announced a moment later, starting to wave.

Heather turned around, looking toward town hall in time to see her fiancé's brother ambling down the steps.

"C'mon," April demanded, tugging on her friends arm.  The two of them hurried the last thirty feet up the sidewalk and toward the intersection, both waving to get his attention.  "So, I move that we adjourn this meeting of the "It Ain't Easy Bein' Green' club.  Can I get a second?" April requested, giggling.

"Uh, second," Heather offered a beat later.

"Great.  All in favor, say 'aye'.".

"Aye?"

"And the 'ayes' have it," April declared.  "We're adjourned."

"Stay there," Eric called from the opposite side of the street.  "I'm coming to you!"  He waited for a car to pass, and then jogged across the road.  April held her hand out to him, and he took it, squeezing her fingers.  "Hey," he greeted, smiling.  "And, hi, Heather," he added, glancing in her direction.

"Hi," she returned.

"You know we could've come to you," April informed her husband, leaning toward him so she could brush a kiss across his mouth.  "We're actually headed that way."

"But I like comin' to you," Eric argued, grinning.  "So, get what you needed?" he asked, looking her up and down, presumably for a shopping bag that wasn't there.

"No, but I didn't actually need anything," April told him, playing with the zipper on his parka.  "I do work in a hospital," she reminded quietly, "I have other ways. And, how 'bout we talk about this when we get home, okay?"

"'Kay," he agreed easily as they exchanged another kiss.

"So, Ricky," April began, threading her arm through his, "I have a proposition for you –"

"Well, I like the sound of that," he teased in return.

"Good," she laughed.  "So, whaddya think about pulling a Gramps, and taking not one, but two, beautiful women to dinner tonight?" April asked, tilting her head toward Heather.

"No way," his brother's fiancée objected before he could.  "I'm not horning in on your guys' date.  No way," she repeated.

"We're only going to Bailey's, so it's hardly a real date," April reasoned.  "Look at me," she added, unzipping her jacket to reveal a well-worn KUMC sweatshirt paired with jeans.  "I'm totally not dressed for Roma Italia or the Grille.  I mean, you two could go, no problem," she continued, glancing between her husband, who had on Dockers, and her friend, who was wearing a corduroy skirt paired with tights and knee-high boots. "Besides," she challenged Heather, "What plans do you have for tonight besides running down the battery on Jake's cell?"

"I have a social studies test to grade," she protested feebly.  "And math homework."

"You still need to eat," April argued, "Look, take an hour, have dinner with us, and then you can go talk to Jake for the rest of the night and grade tests, or whatever.  We want you to come with us, Heather," she said, throwing her husband a pointed look.  "Don't we, Eric?"

"Yeah, we do," he confirmed almost immediately, squeezing April's hand on his arm.  "Now, c'mon," he cajoled, crooking his elbow in Heather's direction.

"Fine," she giggled softly, a long moment later.  "Thanks," she added, accepting Eric's arm.

"Great," he grinned in return.  "Though, I do have one request," he informed the two women as they started to cross the street, headed toward the tavern.  "Can I be the one who tells Jake about all this?"


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

Monday January 22, four months after the bombs


"So?" Jake demanded, practically jumping up out of the seat he'd taken in the hallway.  "What happened?  How is she?"

"Well, she's awake now, and we're trying to keep her calm," Jeff began, speaking softly as they were congregated just outside the open door of April's clinic room.  "Uh, Jake, this is Dr. Williams –"

"Jessica," the young woman interrupted.  "Just call me Jessica," she instructed.  "So, you're her husband?"

Jake shook his head.  "Brother," he corrected, though he wasn't sure what he was saying – claiming.  His brother was her husband, even if he didn't want to be anymore, and April was his friend – his sister – and nothing Eric did was going to change that.  "Do you know what's going on?"

Jeff and Jessica exchange a quick – and to Jake's eyes – troubled look.  "My gut tells me the baby's having a problem," she answered finally, her gaze shifting to Gail who'd been settling April in her hospital bed, but had now joined their anxious little knot outside the door.  "And if I know it," she added, glancing back into the room, "She knows it."

"What – what are we going to do?" Gail asked, her voice cracking softly.

"Get Kenchy," Jake suggested without missing a beat.

"Dr. Dhuwalia, our sometimes surgeon," Jeff explained for Jessica's benefit.

She was clearly surprised by this news.  "Wait – there's another doctor in town?" she gaped.  "A surgeon?"

"That man can barely sit up in his barstool," Gail complained, "I really don't think he's April's best – best option."

"Well, she does," Jeff snapped in return.  "I'm sorry," he apologized in the next second, shooting Gail a guilty look.  "I'm sorry, but she does," he insisted, "She just told me she that.  Thirty minutes ago, she told me that he was welcome back any time and that he –"  Jeff broke off shaking his head.  He wasn't going to quote her, tell them that she thought he was a 'brilliant surgeon', if only because he wasn't ready to say that she needed a surgeon.  A real doctor, yes; but not a surgeon, not yet, and hopefully not ever.  "April would want him.  She trusts him."

 "I trust him, too," Jake offered.  "And, he's actually graduated med school," he reminded, adding, "No offense," as he looked back and forth between Jeff and Jessica.  "I think we should get 'im."

"No, uh, that's a good reason to get him," Jessica assured, "A really good reason."

"She was having pain," Jeff told them quietly.  He looked back over his shoulder at April.  She looked too small in the oversized hospital bed with the covers pulled up to her chin so all he could really see of her was a shock of red hair.  "When we were talking, she had a really sharp pain, in her side, I think.  I mean, she laughed it off, made a joke about the baby poking her 'cause it's probably really a boy and she keeps calling it a girl.  I should've –"

"Made her stop working?  Made her rest?" Gail interjected, the faintest of smiles touching her lips.  "Not likely, honey," she sighed.  "It's hard to make April do anything she doesn't want to."

"Look, what we really need is an ultrasound machine," Jessica argued, flashing Jeff a look that – unlike Gail's – was more grim than encouraging.  "You've really got another doctor?" she continued, glancing at Jake.  "Well, he's gonna want this, too.  Without it there's no real way to know what's going on."

"Yeah, good thinkin'," Jeff confirmed, heaving a sigh.  "We need to get Mike and Drake back here, too so they can take care of everybody – everything – else, and we can concentrate on April."  He spotted a familiar figure at the end of the hall, and waving, he called out, "Brett!  Come're."

The stocky teenager waved in return, making a beeline for the group huddled together outside April's room.  "Hey, I was looking for you," Brett Davis declared.

"You were?" Jeff asked, surprised.

"Well, not you," Brett admitted, "Him.  Jake," he explained rotating slightly so that he faced the other man.  "Mrs. Green – the teacher Mrs. Green, I mean," Brett clarified, glancing quickly at Gail, "She told me to find you and tell you that she's sorry, she had pregnancy brain and didn't think about it 'til she saw me this morning, but my eighth grade science project was called 'Can a farmer farm fuel?'" Brett reported.  "I, uh, extracted vegetable oil from corn and sunflower seeds and soybeans and then determined where the yield of oil was best and which offered the best energy output.  Mrs. Green was the advisor for the –"

"So, what you're sayin' is you've actually manufactured biofuels, right?" Jake questioned, interrupting.

"Four years ago, yeah," Brett agreed, "And not like a lot.  I made it in baby food jars," he admitted.  "Like five, total.  It was kind of a hard project, took a lotta time.  But, I won first place at the school and county fairs, came in fourth in the state.  Probably could still do it."

"Gotta be better at it than me," Jake snorted.  "Okay, I'm kicking you off border patrol," he decided, "Just for now.  We're in an emergency situation and right now fuel's gotta be our priority."

"Sure," Brett shrugged.  "I can go back later, right?"

"Probably.  Look, go find Harry Carmichael," Jake ordered, "And tell him about how you won the science fair and that he should put you to work."

"Can you go tell Mrs. Crenshaw I'm not gonna make my shift today?" Jeff requested, "And maybe stop by our house and tell Mike he needs to come back, and Drake that he needs to come in now?  Just tell 'em we've got an emergency goin' on here."

Brett nodded, his gaze drawn into April's room.  "Is – is Dr. Green gonna be okay?"  She'd pushed her blankets down and her pale, drawn face was clearly visible from the hallway.

"We hope so," Jessica told him.  She glanced sideways at Jeff.  "And that means we really need to get back to our patient."

"Jessica," Gail said, getting the younger woman's attention.  "Maybe we have an ultrasound that survived the EMP in the basement.  I'll go look."

"Thanks," she returned, steering Jeff back into April's room.

"Brett, hold up," Jake requested, "I'm gonna walk back with you."  He turned toward his mother.  "I've gotta go find Heather.  Make sure she's okay….  Plus, she'd wanna be here."

"You've gotta get your father, too," she said.  "Tell him to find Eric," Gail instructed, "He's the one who should be here."

"I was gonna anyway," Jake admitted, "Even if you didn't tell me to. He'd want to be here – I'd want to be here.  God, I'd be so – I am –" he stopped, shaking his head, his fist pressed to his mouth.

Gail gripped his other arm.  "We're all scared, honey.  But it's gonna be okay.  It has to be.  And, I don't know what this is," she confessed, "But whatever it is, it's not contagious, all right?  It can't be.  Heather and your baby, they're fine," she insisted, trying to force a smile.  "And we're not gonna let anything happen to April or this baby either."

"Yeah," he agreed, expelling a shallow breath.  "Yeah, okay."

"Now," she ordered, "Hurry."

* * * * *

"Hold on there, Heather, darlin'," Johnston requested just as his daughter-in-law reached the main exit door from town hall.  "There was ice on those steps when we got here, and I doubt it's all melted away in an hour," he reminded, reaching her side.  "I try to stay in my wife's good graces, and she gave specific instruction that I was to make sure you didn't slip on the ice."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to get you in trouble with Mom," Heather chuckled, "Or end up sprawled out on the sidewalk on my backside."

"Let me get that door for you," Gray Anderson said, maneuvering around them.  His tone was solicitous – nearly cheerful – prompting the two Greens to exchange bemused looks.  "Gotta keep Gail happy," Gray declared, "And you on your feet, Heather.  That baby's the next new citizen of Jericho, after all."

Johnston swallowed a smile, shaking his head and marveling once more at the strange state of his relationship – daresay, friendship – with Gray Anderson.  With the election behind them and their 'X factor' conspiracy between them, Gray appeared to have decided that they were no longer rivals. The morning after the phony marines' departure – New Year's Eve day – Johnston had gone to explain about the tank and his executive decision to hide it in Stanley Richmond's barn, and he'd had to admit – to himself, and then later to his wife and family – that Gray's response had surprised the hell out of him. 

"I think we need to work together," Gray had declared in a completely unexpected overture of reconciliation.   "For Jericho – all the people in town and the ones out on the farms.  Hell, for your family, those grandbabies of yours."

"We must all hang together," Johnston had countered, quoting Benjamin Franklin, "Or assuredly we shall all hang separately." 

Gray had simply stared back at him, smirking.  "Know what, Johnston?  I'm pretty sure we're sayin' the same damn thing." 

And it was true; more importantly, it had stayed true.  Now, Gray and Johnston worked together.  Ten times a day, Gray asked for the former mayor's opinion – and considered it.  He assigned responsibility on some matters – and not always minor ones – to Johnston, and more importantly he backed his predecessor's decisions.  They were a team – a team of frickin' ducks, Gray had joked one evening as they'd shared a nightcap in the mayor's office: serene on the surface and paddling furiously underneath.  Victory followed by setback had proven to be the secret combination to unlocking Gray Anderson's softer, humbler, more human side.

"Well, thank you, gentlemen," Heather smiled, taking her father-in-law's arm and nodding at Gray as they moved through the door he held open for them. 

Johnston breathed a small sigh of relief.  Jake was the most skeptical of them all – Stanley Richmond included – when it came to accepting at face value Gray's new policy of comity, and Heather seemed to be mostly in agreement with her husband on this matter.  Still, they were both polite in their dealings with the mayor, a fact for which Johnston was truly grateful.  "Guess the ice melted away after all," he mused, his gaze concentrated on the damp limestone steps beneath their feet.  The winter sunshine was a welcome change from the previous week of clouds and snow and damp, and though it wasn't warm by any stretch of the imagination, the brightness of the morning was enough to cheer even the grumpiest among them.  "Still slick, though, sweetheart," he warned.

"And still some ice right here," Gray pointed out with his toe.  "Gotta keep an eye out."

Grinning, Heather shook her head at the both of them.  "I think I'm safe," she declared as her foot hit the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps.  "But, Dad," she continued urgently, tightening her grip on his arm.  "Look!"

Johnston, depositing his hat on his head, did as instructed.  A trio of unfamiliar trucks had just come around the corner at Spruce Lane.  Unfamiliar and rather unremarkable save for one thing: the cargo sitting in the bed of the lead truck.  He let out a low whistle.  "It's the guys from New Bern.  They actually built the thing.  I can't believe it."

"Oh, I gotta see this," Heather practically squealed with delight.  "C'mon!" she ordered, trying to hurry her father-in-law toward the street. 

"Now, hold your horses," Johnston chuckled, though he quickened his pace to match hers.  As they moved toward the street, they watched the first truck stop directly in front of town hall while the other two turned onto Main Street and found parking in front of the market.  "Hey, Russell," Johnston greeted moments later as the younger man, the driver of the second truck, jogged around the back of the lead truck.

"Hey," he returned, smiling.  "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you," Johnston echoed, quickly shaking Russell's hand while out of the corner of his eye he saw a familiar figure climb out of the lead truck.

"Johnston, you S.O.B., how the hell did you lose an election?"

Grinning and shaking his head, Johnston turned to face the new arrival.  He'd known Phil Constantino for more than fifteen years, and they had often been allies in the dangerous game of local politics, and fishing buddies besides.  Phil and his wife, Judy, were always invited to Gail's and Johnston's Christmas open house, and the two couples had gotten together for dinner every six months or so for more than a decade.  They were friends. 

"Now the question is, how did you get to be in charge of New Bern?" Johnston drawled, shaking the other man's hand.  "Did they get tired of you being the sheriff?"

"Naw," Constantino returned easily.  "I'm still the sheriff," he explained, "Just got a little more authority now."

"Ah," Johnston acknowledged.  "You remember my daughter-in-law, don't you?  Heather, this is Phil Constantino," he introduced, "You two've have met before."

"Of course I remember Heather," Constantino boomed out.  "I was at your wedding," he reminded, taking her mittened hand into both of his and squeezing it.  "And I must say, you were a beautiful bride, and now even more so, in the full bloom of motherhood," he teased, practically leering at her.

"Well, not full bloom – not full term, anyway – not quite yet," Heather countered, allowing a somewhat uneasy giggle. 

"I know I'm not supposed to say you're 'glowing', right?" Constantino joked, glancing between Russell and Johnston.  "That's like a rule these days," he nodded to himself, "Used t' be, you could tell a woman who was with child that she 'glowed' and it was considered a compliment.  But, not anymore," he sighed.  "So, I'll just hafta settle for telling you that you're looking as lovely as always, and that Jake is one very lucky man."

"Careful there, Phil," Johnston advised, chuckling.  "You don't want Jake to hear you flirtin' with his wife.  He's got a bit of a jealous streak when it comes to Heather."  Generally, Jake's jealous streak only surfaced when he was competing for her attention with eight year old boys or his now deceased grandfather, but still Heather gave a small nod, confirming her father-in-law's statement.  "Well," Johnston continued, directing Constantino's attention to the man standing to his left.  "This is our new mayor, Gray Anderson."

"Mayor Anderson!" Constantino declared, offering the other man his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Gray returned, shaking his hand.

"Congratulations," Constantino smiled.  He waited a beat – barely enough time for Gray to get a 'thank you' out – before continuing.  "So, we come bearing gifts," he announced.  "Though I don't mean this beautiful piece of machinery," he said, gesturing at the turbine pieces that sat in the back of his truck.  "Which, unfortunately, we must offer in trade rather than as a gift.  But we can discuss all that in a moment," New Bern's new mayor promised.  "No, I'm speaking of the special delivery item that my logistics manager handed over this morning, and which she took great pains to impress upon me, was actually my most important duty on this trip.  So, Heather, I hope you won't accuse me of flirting with you," he teased, winking at her, "And sic your husband on me, because I swear this present was all orchestrated by a mutual acquaintance of ours, Ms. Mindy Henry."

"Mindy, really?" Heather asked, surprise evident in her expression.  "But she already brought diapers and peanut butter last time.  And I promise," she giggled self-consciously, "I won't send Jake after you."

"Mindy's pretty excited that she gets to be 'Aunt' Mindy," Russell offered.

"That she is," Constantino agreed.  "So she sent a duffle bag full of –"

"It's not a duffle bag," Russell interrupted, snorting.  He opened the passenger door on the truck and reached behind the seat, pulling something loose.  "It's a diaper bag," he explained, turning around and holding it up for Heather's inspection.  "The man never had kids," he grumbled, tilting his head toward Constantino.

"So you do, Russell?  Have kids?" Heather smiled, accepting the gift from him.  It was a very nice diaper bag, clearly brand new, in a cheerful green plaid with three jolly, cartoonish bears – Papa, Mama and Baby – embroidered on the front, messenger style flap.  "This – this is amazing," she declared.

Russell returned her smile.  "Just one, a little girl," he shrugged.  "And, you can use it as a backpack, too," he said, pointing out the straps on the backside of the diaper bag.  "Plus Mindy loaded it up with some good stuff."

Heather couldn't resist peeking inside – and then she couldn't help but agree with Russell's assessment.  There was a small bundle of cloth diapers, a package of diaper pins and another of pacifiers, a bunch of baby bath products, a giant tube of diaper cream, and even an infant health and grooming kit.  "Just goes to show that Mindy knows Jake," she laughed, extracting a three-pack of onesies and showing them to Johnston.  "Airplanes," she laughed, "So cute."

"Sure is," her father-in-law agreed.

"Okay, sorry guys," Heather apologized a few seconds later, glancing quickly at each of the men.  "I had a girlie moment," she admitted, tucking the onesies back into the diaper bag and zipping it closed.  "Sorry," she repeated.  "And thank you," she continued looking between Russell and Constantino.  "Please tell Mindy 'thank you' for me, and thanks to both of you, too, for delivery services.  This is absolutely amazing," Heather sighed, "Really, really generous.  Thank you."

"Happy to do it," Russell assured.  "And Mindy said to tell you that she's workin' on one for April, for next time."

"Oh good," Heather chuckled, "I can tell her that and she won't have to be jealous so much."

"So this is the windmill, huh?" Gray interjected, glancing at Heather.  "I mean, if you're through and we can talk about it now," he teased gently. 

It was the sort of statement that, coming from Gray Anderson, would have made Heather bristle the month before, but now she was able to shrug it off.  "Well, yeah," she returned, slinging the diaper bag over one shoulder, "'Cause I'm dying to talk about it!"

"Actually, it's the power generating wind turbine," Russell informed them, taking a step toward the machine.  "To be technical."

"What are you getting for output?" Heather demanded excitedly.

"About fifteen hundred watts an hour," Russell answered.

Heather made a delighted noise.  "That's amazing.  I was only hoping to achieve like sixty, seventy percent of that," she admitted, moving to stand next to Russell.  She reached out, placing a tentative hand on the turbine blade and sighing.  "It is truly beautiful to behold."

"Don't even think about it!"

Her head whipped around, seeking the source of that very familiar voice.  "Jake!" Heather squeaked, blushing, as she watched her husband jog across the street.  "What?" she giggled guiltily as he reached her side.

"Hey, I could see what you were thinkin' from fifty feet away," he claimed, letting his hand rest on the mound of her pregnancy.  It wasn't something he usually did, not out in public, but after everything that had happened with April in the preceding hour, Jake couldn't help but feel the need to reassure himself that Heather and their baby were both okay.  "So unless you wanna give me a heart attack," he continued, their gazes locking, "Just give up on that idea of climbin' up  to get a better look at this thing, okay?"

"Okay," she conceded, laying her hand over the top of his and squeezing his fingers through the thick material of both their gloves.  "I can probably get as good a view from down here as up there."

"Probably," Jake agreed, his lips twitching with a grin. 

"Oh!  Did you feel that?" Heather demanded in the next instant, moving his hand over and down a few inches.  "He's been pretty quiet all morning – sleeping in," she joked, "Until you show up."

"Yeah?" he returned, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I'm just sayin'….  He knows it's you," she declared, "Knows you're his dad."  Jake was grinning, softly, but he didn't say anything, and Heather knew he wouldn't, not in front of this group.  She changed the subject.  "So, what're you doing here?  I mean, not that it isn't nice to see you in daylight and everything.  And, oh, did Brett Davis –"

"Daylight's good," he agreed, "And, yeah, Brett found me.  He's reporting to Harry as we speak."  For a moment – a few seconds, a half minute at most – with his hand resting on Heather's middle, over their baby, Jake had been able to push out of his mind what had happened at the clinic, with April.  But now it all came rushing back.  Taking a half-step back from his wife, he caught her hand in his own and turned his attention to Russell, greeting the other man.  "Hey."

"Hey, Jake," Russell returned.  "And happy birthday," he added.  "Mindy made me promise I'd say that."

"Right," he acknowledged, frowning.  It seemed weird to think about – his birthday had been just yesterday, his party only sixteen hours ago.  "Thanks.  So, does this thing work?" Jake demanded, gesturing at the turbine with his free hand.  "Can we get power from it?"

Russell nodded.  "Probably sometime tomorrow."

"We need to get it up as fast as we can," Jake insisted, "We're gonna need it at the medical center."

"You got it," Russell assured.

"What's goin' on?" Heather asked, "I mean, besides being low on biodiesel?"

Jake's frown deepened.  "Babe," he began, tightening his grip on her hand and tugging on it so she'd turn with him as he moved toward his father.  "Dad," he continued, glancing back and forth between the two of them.  "There's – there's something wrong with April."

"What?" Heather yelped.

Johnston's thick "What is it?" was a more measured response but certainly no less concerned.

"She passed out," Jake explained, unable to disguise the grim worry in his tone.  "They think there's a problem with the baby."

"Who's 'they'?" Gray demanded.   Recognizing the annoyance that flared in Jake's expression, he held his hands up in a show of mock surrender.  "Hey, I'm just askin' because she's our only board certified physician.   I don't think an optometrist counts.  Or – no offense to your brother and his friends, Heather – a couple of med students....  'Cause in the end, they're still – you know – students."

"What about a surgeon?"  Jake returned, "Kenchy's still in town," he reminded.

"Saved my life," Johnston added.

"So, he's treating April?" Gray asked.  "Resurfaced finally?  That's a relief."

"Well, not yet," Jake admitted.   "Jeff and Jessica – she's the med student from Roger Hammond's group – they're taking care of April.  And Mom."

"Jake, I need to get over there," Heather interjected.  She was clearly distressed and he knew she was giving him a twenty or thirty second warning before she struck out for the med center with or without him.

"That's why I'm here," he reminded,  keeping a tight hold to her hand – or as tight as he could manage with his gloves on and fingers that didn't quite respond to his commands the way they always had up until Christmas. "I came to get you," he told his wife, "And to ask you if you've seen Eric?" Jake finished, looking at his father.

"Naw, I've been with Heather all mornin'," Johnston replied.  Heather, they both knew, was only around Eric when she absolutely had to be, and then only for the briefest of moments.  "Did you try Mary's?"

"Yeah, I tried there, I tried at Bailey's," Jake answered, expelling a frustrated breath.  "Everything's locked up tight.  Look, can you find him?" he asked, glancing at Heather.  "He should be there – he'd want to be there."

"Yeah, I'll see if I can find him, and maybe," Johnston said, looking at Gray, "Jimmy can help out?"

"He's doin' the refugee census, but we can put Bill on it," Gray offered.

"Thanks," Jake and Johnston said in unison.  Jake glanced at Heather.  "Okay, let's go."

"You two wanna ride?" Russell inquired, jerking his head toward the truck.  "We're headed the same way, after all.  You can show me the best way to go," he suggested, "And besides, I'd feel like a real ass letting a pregnant woman walk when I could give her a lift."

Heather's smile was tremulous and didn't reach her eyes.  "I think we'll take you up on that," she sighed.  "Thank you."

* * * * *

"Mikey, you beat us here," Heather greeted her brother frowning softly.  Jake had explained what he knew about April's condition – not a whole lot – and about Jeff's decision to send Brett Davis to ask Michael and Drake to come in to assist with an unspecified emergency, but she'd assumed that she and Jake would arrive ahead of the two younger men, if only because they'd cut at least twenty minutes off their trip by riding over with Russell.  "I'm surprised," she admitted, moving in to hug him.

He held up a hand, stopping her.  "You don't wanna do that," he warned.  "My patient just peed on me.  I mean, he's two, so that's not, like, really weird.  But I'm still … damp," Michael said, pointing to a wet spot on his scrub top.  "And don't laugh," he ordered, noticing his brother-in-law's smirk.  "Chances are, the next couple of years, somebody's gonna pee on you, too," he reminded, glancing significantly at his sister's pregnant belly.

"Can't wait," Jake grumbled quietly.  "So, you've heard what's goin' on, right?"

"Yeah, Brett came and got us," he replied, "Said it was a big emergency, so we left right away.  Jeff met us at the door and filled us in," Michael shrugged.  "We're just gonna try to keep the rest of the patients from rioting.  And turn off every light they turn on, so we can save power for April," he explained, yawning.  "Sorry," he apologized automatically, blinking hard.  "What is that?" he inquired, his gaze settling on Jake and the diaper bag hanging off his shoulder.  "Where'd it come from?"

Jake had asked the same question not ten minutes before as he'd helped Heather into the truck, relieving her of the diaper bag as she'd brushed by him.  He'd recognized that it was baby related, but he'd wondered about its origin.  "Where'd this come from?  Something for the baby?"

"It's a diaper bag," Heather had answered, sighing softly.  "Mindy sent it, like a baby present.  And, God," she'd sworn, "She really packed it full.  It has so many things that we're gonna need.  Things that I haven't really wanted to think about not having," she'd confessed, watching Jake as he'd slid in on the bench seat next to her, setting the diaper bag in his lap. 

"Wow.  That – that's great," Jake had acknowledged.  Heather was usually so optimistic, so sure that everything would turn out okay, and she didn't often admit that there were things she worried about not having – things that they would have had, if not for the bombs – for their baby.  "You'll tell Mindy thanks?" he'd requested, glancing past his wife at Russell.

"You bet," the other man had promised, starting the engine and then slowly easing the vehicle out into the road.  "From both of you."

"Thank you," Heather had returned.  "And this is gonna sound so mercenary, and that's really not me," she'd assured Russell before turning her head to look at her husband.  "But hon, thanks for having the foresight to adopt Mindy as your sister twenty years ago.  It's totally paid off."

"Twenty years?  Seriously?" Jake had snorted, shaking his head at her.  "I'm really not that old, okay?  Think about it."

"Oh, right.  You probably weren't washing dishes at the pizza parlor when you were twelve, thirteen, huh?" Heather had agreed.  He'd been trying to distract her, she'd known, from her worry and fear about April, and she'd been grateful for his efforts.  "So, what?" she'd asked, more than willing to play along.  "Sixteen years?"

"Try, like, seventeen," Jake had offered, adding, "And a half," before directing Russell to take the next left.

"It's a diaper bag, you dork," Heather answered for her husband, rolling her eyes at her brother.

"Well, I know that," Michael countered.  "Got seven nieces and nephews," he reminded.  "Soon to be eight –"

"Nine," his sister interjected.

Michael nodded.  "Right, nine.  But the idea of Jake with a man-purse is fun, too," he joked, smirking at his brother-in-law.

Jake, though, didn't take the bait.  "New Bern showed up with a windmill this morning," he explained.  "They're installing it outside right now.  Russell and some other guys.  Mindy sent the diaper bag with 'em as a gift."

"So we're gonna have power that's not from the generator?" Michael asked, hope and relief mixing in his expression.  "Like all the time?  Or at least when the wind's blowing?"

"Up to fifteen hundred watts an hour," Heather informed him, a ghost of a grin touching her lips.

"Might not be today," Jake cautioned, "So keep turning off lights.  But tomorrow, definitely."

"Okay, good," Michael yawned again, apologizing again.  "Sorry.  You know, it's lucky that Brett got there right before I was gonna go to bed.  At least I'm just zonked and not groggy, too," he claimed, fighting – and ultimately losing that fight – another yawn.

"So it was a rough night here, last night?" Heather asked.  "I mean – I guess I'm just trying to figure out how this happened," she murmured, her forehead wrinkling.

"It was a pretty easy night, actually," her brother contradicted.  "It's not … people don't come in on the night shift anymore, not unless they stop breathing or have a heart attack or something," he reminded.  Generally, there wasn't power at night, and being admitted to the clinic wasn't even a way to get a free meal as patient food service was a distant memory.  Now, families had to bring in meals for their loved ones or patients went hungry.  It was infinitely harder to travel at night, too, so – barring life threatening emergencies – people tended to tough things out at home, waiting for dawn before they came into the clinic.   Now, seven to ten in the morning was their busiest time of day, April had explained more than once.

"Last night was quiet, and April told me she was tired, so when she said she wanted to get some sleep, it wasn't a problem.  If somebody had come in and I couldn't handle it, I would've woken her up.  Her or Jess," Michael amended, "'Cause she sleeps here too."

Heather nodded.  "But if she was tired last night… was that a symptom of whatever this is?"

"I don't know, maybe," Michael shrugged.  "Heth, we don't actually know what's going on with her yet," he admitted.

"Right, sorry," she sighed.

A volunteer – Connie Gireaux, the town's treasurer before the bombs – approached them then, addressing Michael.  "Dr. Lisinski, Mrs. Nolan's in exam three.  It's seems to be something respiratory.  She's having trouble breathing, anyway."

"Okay, I'll be right there," he promised.

"Mrs. Nolan was my neighbor on Green Street," Heather reminded, "So take good care of her, Dr. Lisinski."  She smiled at the title, admitting, "I just wish Dad could hear people calling you that.  He'd be so proud."

"Hey, maybe one day he will," Jake offered, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.  "It could still happen."

"Yeah, exactly," Michael agreed.  "So you guys better go check on April, and I better go take care of Mrs. Nolan," he prompted.  "Though, would you like me to lock that up?" he asked, pointing at the diaper bag that was still hanging from Jake's shoulder.

"Sure, good idea," Jake returned, handing the bag to his brother-in-law.

"Is that really necessary?" Heather questioned.

"Looks valuable to me," Michael reasoned, "And valuable stuff has a habit of growing legs and walking away around here.  Even the not so valuable stuff."

"But there aren't that many pregnant women in town, or babies, even," Heather argued.  At least three of the women who had gotten pregnant right after the bombs – the 'bomb babies' Mrs. Crenshaw had dubbed that impending baby boomlet – had left town in the two caravans that had set out south back in December, hoping to get to Texas or Arizona before they ran out of food and fuel.  There had been a number of small children in those caravans, too, a fact that still left Heather heartsick when she thought about it.

Jake offered her his hand.  "Yeah, babe, but why risk it?"  He glanced at her brother.  "Thanks, Mike.  Now, c'mon," he instructed Heather, beginning to lead her farther into the clinic.

They ran into Gail as she exited a supply closet down the hall from April's room, a bag of saline in her hand.  "Heather, Jake!" she greeted them, "I'm glad you're here."

"How's April?" Heather inquired breathlessly, "Where is she?"

"Room five," her mother-in-law answered, pointing at the door.  "But hold on a second, sweetheart," she requested.  "I just want – I want to make sure you know that I worry about you, too –"

Surprise and confusion warred for dominance in Heather's expression.  "Uh, yeah," she agreed, looking back and forth between her husband and his mother.  "Trust me, I've never doubted that," she chuckled somewhat uneasily.  "Did – did someone say differently?"

"Not me," Jake defended himself, holding up both his hands.

"No, of course not," Gail assured, "But I did just hear about how you were risking poisoning yourself by making biodiesel," she scolded gently.

"That was s'posed to be our little secret," Heather reminded her husband shaking her head.

"Well, the, uh, circumstances under which I revealed that information were… pretty mitigating," he returned.  "But still.  Sorry."

"And I seem to be putting my foot in my mouth with every other conversation I have today," Gail admitted, expelling a deep breath.  "But I do worry about you.  And that baby.  But I also know that you have Jake, and I don't want to be accused of meddling, so I worry a little more quietly, that's all."

"You don't have to be quiet about it, Mom," Heather told her.  "I mean, I think we've proven that I'll push back when I do think you're meddling," she contended, a slight grin quirking her mouth.  "Even when – ultimately – you're right and I'm wrong."

Their gazes locked, and it was clear that they both knew what they were talking about, even if Jake didn't.  "Heather, you weren't wrong," her mother-in-law comforted.

"No, but, you were definitely right," she countered, "And I was being a little bit stubborn."  She reached for the older woman's free hand, squeezing it.  "I love you, too," Heather announced.  "And now I'm gonna go check on April, okay?"

"Okay," Gail agreed, sighing.  "Give this to Jeff, if you don't mind," she requested, handing Heather the IV bag.

"Absolutely," Heather returned before hurrying down the hallway toward room five, her free hand braced over her baby bump.  "Dr. Maguire!" she declared, greeting Jeff who was – she assumed – in the middle of taking April's vitals.  "I supposed to give this to you," she explained holding up the bag of saline.

Jeff extracted the ear pieces of his stethoscope from his ears, draping the device around his neck.  "Thanks," he smiled distractedly, quickly noting something in April's chart.  "Just hang it on the pole, okay?" he requested, "Uh – since we're being formal – Mrs. Green."

"Well, I know that April – excuse me, Dr. Green – likes things to be run professionally around here," she explained, placing the saline bag on an unused hook on April's IV pole.  "And I just called Mikey 'Dr. Lisinski', so I figured I owed you the same respect.  At least once," Heather teased, moving around to the other side of April's bed.  Taking her sister-in-law's hand into her own, Heather brushed the fingers of her other hand across April's forehead at her hairline.  "Hey, how you doin'?" she crooned quietly.

April's eyelashes fluttered momentarily as she struggled to focus on her best friend.  "Really… tired," she managed to croak out, quickly giving up on keeping her eyes open.  Still she was able to curl her fingers tightly around Heather's.  "Hi," she sighed.

"Well, you know what this all does," Heather responded with forced cheer.  "This just goes to show that 'Grandma Gail' was right all along, and that we've both been doing too much."

"Always…" April whispered, though her statement seemed to peter out. 

Heather glanced over her best friend at Jeff, who was now taking her pulse.  "Always right," he guessed, "I mean she's pretty much always right, right?"

"Yeah," Heather agreed, frowning softly.  "She's pretty much the über mom."

A young African-American woman jogged into the room, heading straight for Jeff's side.  Heather was pretty sure she recognized her from the night that Roger Hammond's group arrived in Jericho, so she assumed she was the female medical student everyone – especially the three male medical students she lived with – was talking about.  The younger woman eyed Heather interestedly, but spoke only to Jeff.  "How's her –?"

"Still dropping," he muttered in return.  "Did you find it?"

"No," she retorted, frustrated.  "We're definitely out."

"Well, we'll hafta figure something else out then," he answered, aggravation creeping into his tone as well.  "Look, Jess, this is Heather Green," Jeff continued a few moments later, nodding in Heather's direction.  "She's Mike's big sister, Jake's wife, and –"

"Sis'er-in-law," April slurred softly. 

"Dr. Green's sister-in-law," Jeff repeated on her behalf.  "I was gonna say that," he complained, "And you're supposed to be saving your strength," he chided, though it didn't match his relieved smile at all.  "Heather, this is Jessica – or Dr. Williams, since we are trying to maintain our professionalism around here."

"Really, you can call me Jessica," she assured Heather.  Her smile was forced, and it contained a hint of severity that made the hair on the back of Heather's neck stand on end.  "So," the younger woman added, gesturing at Heather's middle. "That's some pretty good familial coordination – overlapping pregnancies."

"True," Heather giggled softly, trying to shake off her worried feeling.  "And we are the only two Greens who actually could physically be pregnant at this point in time, so that's a little different, huh?"

"We're – we're havin' both girls," April mumbled, squeezing Heather's fingers.  "Grow 'p bes' friends."
           
"That's right," Heather confirmed, trying to clear her throat of the lump that was forming rapidly there.  "That's our nefarious plot.  We're both gonna have girls and they can grow up and be best friends always. The – the Green girls."

"That's a nefarious plot?" Jeff questioned skeptically.  "I'm pretty sure 'Grandpa' requested girls at Thanksgiving," he reminded.

"See how easily he played right into our hands?" Heather joked, "That's how nef –"

"Oh God," April cried out, thrashing beneath her blankets.  She struggled to sit up, repeating, "Oh God.  I think I'm having a contraction –"

"April, you're not having contractions," Jeff insisted.

Jessica was already trying to take April's blood pressure, although Heather was almost certain Jeff had done so not three minutes earlier.  She looked nervous, and she shook her head at Jeff, glaring, telling him to shut up with her eyes. 

"I did," April argued, almost sobbing.

"I think you did, too," Jessica told April.  "But it's okay.  We're gonna take care of you, okay?"  With that she took a step back and then turned and sprinted into the hallway, yelling, "Gail!"

* * *

"Jake," Gail said, laying a hand on his arm to stop him when he started to follow his wife down the hallway.  "Wait a minute, please."

"Sure," he agreed, "What's up?"

"Let's go this way," she requested, starting to move back toward the supply closet she'd just come from.  The door was closed, but Gail had left it unlocked when she'd spotted her son and daughter-in-law and had hurried to meet them.  Quickly, she threaded the combination lock through the loop on the door and then snapped it closed.  "So… where the hell is Eric?" she demanded roughly, not looking at Jake.

His mother wasn't one to mince words, these days especially, but she also didn't usually swear just for the effect.  One eyebrow raised, Jake cleared his throat and answered her quietly.   "Nobody knows, Mom.  Dad's getting Bill on it."

"Did you look for him?" she wanted to know.

"I went by Mary's house and by Bailey's.  Both were locked up tight," Jake explained.  "I'm sure they'll find 'em somewhere."

"Since when does your brother just take off without telling anyone where he's going?" she demanded angrily.  "You or your father?  Harriett Crenshaw, if no one else," she insisted.

"I don't know, Mom," he shrugged helplessly. 

It was a fair question as it was one of the few constant, unaltered rules of his childhood.  As soon as Jake and Eric had been allowed to play outside of their own yard – off their own block – this was the rule that had tripped them up most often; Jake because he hadn't always wanted his parents to know what he was up to, and Eric because he'd hadn't wanted to look like a baby to the other kids by calling his mother every time his plans changed.  But innumerable days on restriction, not to mention Gail's practically patented disappointed looks, had drummed it into them both that they always needed to tell someone where they would be, a habit that had followed them into adulthood.  Throughout college and law school, Eric had always kept his parents apprised of his travels, and even Jake had made a point of regularly letting his mother know which state he'd be in while – unbeknownst to her – he'd been working undercover to bring down Jonah Prowse. 

"Yesterday was his birthday, too," Jake reminded, "Who knows?  Maybe they decided to do something." 

Gail winced.  "That does not make me feel better," she informed her son.  "He – he shouldn't be gallivanting around the countryside with Mary Bailey," she argued, throwing her hands up in the air, "He should be here.  With his wife."

"Mom," Jake began, but she interrupted without even seeming to realize that she'd done so.

"And, I know it was his birthday," she rasped out quietly.  "I'm his mother.  Do you really think I didn't feel it every minute of the day?  That he wasn't there where he belonged?  At dinner with all of us?  Sitting next to April and pretend pouting because she was planning to go into work on his birthday?" Gail demanded, her eyes falling closed and her head dropping so that her chin almost touched her chest. 

It was a plausible scenario.  April had always taken her responsibilities as a doctor very seriously, and Eric had always supported that, had always been proud of the good, important work she did in the community he also served as vice mayor.  But if there was anyone who could distract April from her work that, too, had always been Eric.  At least until it wasn't.

"He would've convinced her to stay," she reasoned with her next breath, meeting her son's concerned gaze.  "That this once, she didn't need to charge in herself, that Michael could handle things for one evening.  And she wouldn't be sleeping in her office every other night, wouldn't be working these – these hours – these shifts that are designed to – to –"

Gail broke off, unwilling to say it.  She wouldn't give voice to her worst fear.  That being a doctor, April's refuge, the one solace she'd had in this untenable situation, would – would kill her.

Jake let out a deep sigh.  "Ma, they're not getting back together," he said quietly, like he was breaking bad news.

"I know that," she chuckled sourly.  "I've – I've accepted it, even," Gail claimed.  "But what I haven't accepted," she continued slowly, "Not by a long shot, is that they broke up in the first place."

"Mom –"

"I know it doesn't make sense," Gail interjected, "But it's how I feel.  They were so perfect for each other."

"Yeah, they were.  Were," he repeated, emphasizing the past tense.  "But that's over."

"It's supposed to be for better or worse.  In sickness and in health."  She stopped, shaking her head again.  "Her blood pressure's dropping," Gail confided, her voice a scratchy whisper.   "We keep – we keep checking it, and it just keeps dropping.  If – if this was before… she wouldn't be here.  Craig Peterson?  Maureen Clement?  Both of them would've transferred her to Rogue River in a heartbeat.  A five months' pregnant woman?  Neither of them would have ever taken that chance," she insisted.  "April wouldn't take that chance with –"

"Gail!"  Jessica's shout sent chills running up both their spines.  They rushed into April's room, moving around to the far side of her bed, where Heather was standing, April's hand clenched in her own, out of Jessica's and Jeff's way.

"I'm feeling contractions," April insisted, a hysterical edge in her tone. 

"I think she's going into labor," Jessica announced grimly.

"No!" April protested, her free hand pressed protectively over her abdomen.  "No, I can't.  The baby's only nineteen weeks.  I need – I need Ritodrine, to stop the labor."

Heather watched as Jeff and Jessica exchanged a quick, rather ominous look.  She was sure this was what they had been talking about before.  "I already checked," Jessica returned, "We don't have any more."

"Well, try to find some – some Nifedipine,"  Jeff snapped, sending Jessica scurrying out of the room while he continued to try and take April's blood pressure yet again.

Gail took a calming breath.  "All right," she declared firmly, patting April's leg.  "What are you feeling?"  This was the part with which his mother really could help, Jake realized.  She'd been a Lamaze instructor for more than four years now, and a number of the mothers-to-be had hired her to be in the delivery room with them.  Gail Green had participated in dozens of routine births over the last few years, and she was the expert here – more so than Jessica or Jeff or even April -- when it came to determining whether his sister-in-law was really in labor or not.

April though just shook her head.  "If I lose consciousness and you can't find any medicine, use alcohol," she advised.

"What?" Jake demanded, clearly confused – or at least convinced that April was.  She'd been fighting so hard all morning, and this wasn't the first time she had said something that seemed garbled with pain and terror.  "What do you mean?"

Heather though seemed to understand.  "April, what kind of alcohol?" she asked, squeezing the other woman's hand.

"Anything – anything coming out of the still," she explained breathlessly.  "Give me a – a ten percent drip," she decided, biting her lip, "And it'll stop the contractions."

"Okay," Heather assured her friend, "We got it, okay?"

"This makes sense?" Jake demanded, glancing from his wife to his mother to Jeff. 

"It worked on the Quantum Leap pilot," Heather explained in a rush of breath.  "Scott Bakula leapt into a fighter pilot in, like, the fifties, and stopped the guy's wife's pre-term labor with an IV full of alcohol."

"It makes sense," Jeff confirmed. "Both biochemically and TV-wise.  My dad loved that show," he admitted.  "I remember the episode."

"Then, we'll get the alcohol," Gail declared confidently.  "Jake can go right now, and we'll have it, just in case Jessica can't find the medicine."

April's head lolled on her pillow and her eyes were again closed.  "Please," she begged, obviously straining to produce the harsh whisper that appeared to be all she was currently capable of.  "Don't wanna – can't lose my baby."

Gail pulled her son a few feet away from the hospital bed, keeping her voice pitched low so that only he could hear her.  "Break in if you have to," she instructed, both of them highly cognizant of his report minutes earlier that Bailey's was 'locked up tight'.   "Bust a window, hell, knock down the door.  I don't care what you hafta do.  Mary Bailey owes us at least that much."

"Got it," Jake acknowledged, turning for the door.

He only managed to take a step and a half before his wife's frightened "Oh God!" forced him to spin around.

"She passed out," Jeff ground out his ear practically pressed to April's chest.  "But she's breathing," he reported, relieved, a long ten seconds later.

"Oh God," Heather repeated, pointing down at the hospital bed.

"She's bleeding," Gail croaked, lifting the sheet and blankets to reveal an alarmingly large and deeply crimson stain.  She looked at her son.  "Get Kenchy now!"

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

To be continued in Different Circumstances, Part 15C.


'Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,' is a quotation from Benjamin Franklin, just as 'We must all hang together or assuredly we shall all hang separately,' is.  One of my challenges to myself is to one day reveal each member of the Green family's favorite Franklin quote as they now all have one, at least in my mind.  Gail probably has multiples as she would need one to preach to each of her growing list of children.

Lisa Frank's artwork features extremely bright rainbow and neon colors and stylized depictions of animals, including dolphins, pandas, and unicorns. In the 1980s and 1990s, her products – including school supplies such as lunchboxes and Trapper Keepers, as well as toys and stickers – were extremely popular among elementary and middle school-aged girls.

I first heard of the potential dangers of cup of noodles in 2008 when a co-worker's nephew was injured by tipping them into his lap.  There are medical journals that discuss the risk as early as 2006, and published news reports as early as 2011 which state that they are the bane of many an ER doctor's existence.  Cup of noodles have been available my entire lifetime so I figure that April would have likely been aware of the dangers by 2002.

Amoxicillin is a penicillin antibiotic that fights bacteria in the human body.  Amoxicillin can make birth control pills less effective and a non-hormonal form of birth control should be used to prevent pregnancy while taking amoxiciilin.

On the show, although Jake says the windmill is needed at the medical center, it is actually set up outside of town hall on Main Street.  This is nonsensical to me, so I had it set up outside the medical center.  Clearly, I am not an apologist for canon, and I fix the stupid parts when I can.

Also on the show, April says that she is sixteen weeks pregnant, not nineteen.  I needed to alter that fact for my timeline which I have extended for my own purposes, not the least of which is that I have a hard time placing an episode called Winter's End in January let alone December.

Ritodrine is a prescription drug that is used to stop premature labor.  In the seven years since Winter's End originally aired on television, this drug has been removed from the U.S. market.

Nifedipine is a prescription drug that while primarily used to treat hypertension and angina has also proven effective for treating premature labor.  It is on the World Health Organization's List of Essential Medicines, a list of the most important medication needed in a basic health system.  We never heard whether or not they still had any in Jericho, but given its essential nature, I hope they did.

Quantum Leap is a television series that ran for 5 seasons in the United States between March 1989 and May 1993.  The show starred Scott Bakula as Dr. Sam Beckett a quantum physicist from the near future who becomes lost in time following a time travel experiment, temporarily taking the places of other people to "put right what once went wrong."  The episode that Heather referred to was called "Genesis" and aired in the U.S. on March 26 1989.