Different Circumstances: Part 4D of ? by Marzee Doatsf
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Saturday, October 13, five years before the bombs
"I'll have a small sundae," Heather ordered when Sam, the bored teenager working the counter at I Scream/U Scream, the latest incarnation of Jericho's one and only ice cream parlor, asked her what she wanted. "Um, cookie dough ice cream, the peanut butter hot fudge, whipped cream -"
"Do you want the regular whipped cream, or the chocolate whipped cream?" asked Sam tiredly. His nametag proclaimed that he was 'Happy to Help!' and Heather had dealt with him before when he'd been in a better mood. She decided to chalk his current fit of attitude up to the fact that it was almost closing time.
"Regular whipped cream," she replied. "Otherwise, that's too much chocolate. And, gummy bears," she added, just as Sam began to turn away. "What?" she demanded, looking sideways at Jake. He was standing next to her, and most definitely smirking.
"I've never heard anyone order a sundae quite like that before." He laughed. "You really know what you're doing. It's kinda awe-inspiring," he teased.
Heather laughed with him, shrugging. "Just one of the many, many things on the list of things I'm good at," she told him. She waited a beat, and then asked, "You're totally intrigued now, right?"
Jake nodded, his eyes locked on hers. "I am intrigued, yes."
"Here," Sam said, dropping Heather's sundae on the counter, interrupting them. He looked back and forth between Jake and Heather. "Are these together, or -"
"Together," Jake interrupted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "And, I'll have what she had, minus the gummy bears," he said, shaking his head. He glanced at Heather again. "Gummy bears?"
"Don't know what you're missing," she assured him.
"I'm good with that," he laughed.
"The sundae comes with a topping," Sam informed Jake. "Whaddya want?"
"Peanuts, almonds, something like that," Jake suggested.
"We've got both."
"Peanuts, then," Jake replied, managing somehow, to not sound annoyed. "Thanks." Sam wandered off to make the sundae, and Jake looked at Heather, who was holding her sundae, but not yet eating. "You can go ahead," he told her. "Why don't you pick a table?"
Heather looked over the nearly empty ice cream shop, then back at the laboring Sam. "I don't think that's a good idea. It's almost closing time, and it might send him over the edge if we sit down," she whispered, pointing at Sam.
"Good point," he agreed, watching, more than a little fascinated as Heather took her first bite of ice cream, obviously enjoying it. "Um," he continued, clearing his throat, "Can we walk and eat at the same time?"
"I think we're both reasonably talented people," Heather proclaimed, sucking on her plastic spoon. "Heck, you kept us from getting arrested," she reminded.
"Trust me, Jimmy was never gonna arrest us," Jake assured her. "Like he said, too much paperwork involved."
Sam returned with Jake's sundae. "Two smalls, that's seven fifty."
"Keep the change," Jake advised Sam, handing him some money. He grabbed his sundae and a spoon, and then looked at Heather. "Ready?" he asked.
"Sure," Heather agreed, smiling at him. She led the way out the door, and once they were back out on the sidewalk, she asked, "So, another sixty percent tip, meant to impress me?"
Jake laughed. "More like thirty percent. And, I figured if I asked for change, he might go postal on us. Didn't seem worth it."
"No, probably not," she agreed, giggling. They started walking slowly in the direction of Jake's car, not really having anywhere else to go. "So - sorry to harp on this," Heather started after they'd gone a few steps, "But, I mean, just 'cause he didn't arrest us -"
"It'll be okay, I promise," Jake told her. "He didn't actually have anything he could arrest us for anyway, and besides, Jimmy's a good guy."
"We kinda broke in. Technically," Heather argued.
"We sat in a public building, in a public meeting room, for just under an hour," Jake countered. "About all he could have really gotten us for is using an hour's worth of electricity." Jake looked at Heather, trying to gauge just how concerned she really was about this. "Look," he offered, "If it'll make you feel better, I'll give my Dad's secretary a buck to cover the lights we used."
"Well, that would be kinda ridiculous," Heather conceded, chuckling. "Okay, you win." She shook her head, cringing slightly. "I may tend to be a little too much of a law-abiding citizen," Heather admitted. "Even in college, the few times my friends and I went over to Canada to drink, I was almost always the designated driver."
"Violating alcohol laws and an international border," Jake teased, "I'm impressed. Look," he continued a moment later, "I actually have a certain respect for the law myself. After all, I arrest people on occasion," Jake reminded. "But, I also know that it's all open to interpretation. I've seen how it gets interpreted," he said, frowning.
They had reached Jake's car, and now stood beside it, facing one another. He placed his quarter-eaten sundae on the roof, and then reached for Heather's, which he set next to his own. Jake reached for her hand, and turned her slightly, gently forcing her to back up until she was pressed against the car door, caught between him and the vehicle. "Okay?" he asked, lacing the fingers of both their hands together.
"Okay," Heather whispered, nodding softly. "Jake -"
"I like you," he told her, interrupting her. "I like you, Heather Lisiniski, law-abiding, tractor-fixing, brilliant, pretty, amazingly nice person that you are." Jake dipped his head then, capturing her mouth with his own. He let go of her hands, pulling her into his arms even as he pressed her against the car with the rest of his body. He kissed her fiercely, thoroughly, possessively, stealing her breath, and leaving them both panting.
"I like you," he repeated, resting his forehead against hers. "And, I'm sorry if I pushed you into going into town hall with me. I didn't think about it," Jake admitted. "I grew up in that building just as much as I grew up in my family home, and at my grandparents' ranch. It's not town hall to me, not really," he shrugged. "It's just another place where I used to play 'cops and robbers' with my brother."
"Okay," Heather nodded, smiling. "I like you, too, Jake Green," she murmured a moment later. "Enough, obviously, to sneak into town hall with you. Enough to - I don't know -"
"Let's make a deal," Jake offered. He took a step back, exhaling deeply, and then retrieved their melting sundaes from the roof. He handed Heather's to her, then took a bite of his own. "This is a first date, right? So we probably don't want to get into all that 'don't know' stuff, right?"
"Yeah," Heather agreed, taking a deep breath. She looked down, and then back up at Jake, facing him nervously. "Though, really, I - There was absolutely no scenario, including you dying of an incurable disease, under which I was gonna sleep with you tonight, Jake."
"Wow," he murmured. He studied her for a long moment, watching the blush that crept onto her cheeks, impressed that she still willingly held his gaze. "Wow," Jake repeated. "Yeah, that was the assumption I was basically operating under tonight, babe," he told her. "It's the assumption I'd expect to be operating under for awhile, right?"
Heather still couldn't believe that she'd said what she'd said. Jake had told her that they shouldn't talk about 'don't know', and she'd heard him, and she'd even known what he was getting at, but what had she done? Blurted out the biggest 'don't know' there was, because that's where she'd been going in her mind. How much did she like Jake? Enough to consider all sorts of possibilities she didn't normally consider, hadn't considered, ever. Heather knew she'd shocked him when she'd announced she wasn't planning on sleeping with him; what he didn't realize was that she'd said it, more than anything, as a reminder to herself.
Biting her lip, Heather nodded. "Yeah, pretty much," she confirmed.
"Okay," Jake continued, exhaling deeply. "Back to our deal. I like you, you like me, this is a first date, and we are not going to sleep together tonight," he declared firmly. "But," he added, chuckling softly, "I am gonna kiss you again."
"You called me 'babe'," was Heather's only response.
"That I did," he agreed. "Any strong objection?"
Heather shook her head. "No," she told him. "Just an observation, really," she shrugged, offering him a pleased grin.
Jake looked down at his soupy sundae, realizing that he absolutely no interest in finishing it. He looked up at Heather. "I should take you home," he told her. "Are you done with that?" he asked, pointing at the sticky cup Heather held, forgotten, in her hand.
"Sure," Heather agreed, handing it to him. "But, what about kissing me?" she teased. "That's part of our deal, right?"
"I'm gonna kiss you goodnight. Later," Jake said, taking a deep breath. "Give me a second," he requested, turning and walking about twenty feet down the block to a public trash can.
Heather watched Jake go, comprehending belatedly, just how much effort he was putting into maintaining his equilibrium at the moment. She'd never had that affect on anyone, not really, and it was a scary and exhilarating realization. It was also something Heather knew she shouldn't take lightly.
Jake returned, smiling at her sweetly. "Ready to go?" he asked. Heather nodded, and he stepped around her to open her door. "Okay," he began, turning back to face Heather, only to be surprised when she kissed him softly, a mere peck, before sliding around him, and into her seat.
"Okay," she agreed, smiling up at him.
"Okay," Jake laughed, closing her door.
* * * * *
"So," Jake began, turning into Heather's driveway, and parking behind her car, "This is probably going to sound a little weird, but could I have your phone number?"
"Oh, my goodness," Heather laughed, her eyes widening in both amusement and embarrassment. "You really don't have it, do you?"
Jake turned off the car, shaking his head. "No. And, I figure since Stanley does," he shrugged. "I'd ask Gramps if he had it, but that would be kinda embarrassing either way."
"Jake, you can have my phone numbers, my email address, whatever you want," she told him. "Well, whatever you want, as far as contact methods go."
He leaned over, cupping her chin, and then kissing her. "'Contact method' covers a lot," Jake reminded her with a lopsided grin.
Heather laughed. "True," she agreed. "Gimme a sec," she requested, opening her purse and pulling out a tiny notepad and pen. She wrote quickly, and then tore out the slip of paper, handing it to him.
'Heather' was written across the top and underlined, and she'd provided her home and cell phone numbers, and two email addresses, one for work, one personal. "Thanks," Jake murmured, tucking the paper into his coat pocket.
"Turn about is fair play, or however that goes," Heather said, handing her notebook to Jake, who reciprocated, providing the same information she had.
Jake climbed out of the car, and came around to the passenger's side to help Heather out. Heather, growing quickly accustomed to Jake's somewhat old-fashioned habits, waited for him. She exited the car into the circle of his arms, and he kissed Heather quickly, teasingly, before taking her hand and leading her to her front door.
"You really can come in," Heather told Jake, turning to face him.
"No," he contradicted, shaking his head, smiling at her. "It's not a good idea, and I can guarantee that Gramps is waiting up for me." Jake started to play absently with a lock of her hair, twisting it around his finger. "He likes you," he told her, "So he figures waiting up for me protects your virtue."
"I see," Heather chuckled. "Well, I like your grandfather, too."
Jake leaned forward, brushing his lips across hers. "So, I have to go to the weekly Green family dinner tomorrow night, and you're correcting math tests on Monday," he sighed. "So, Tuesday?"
"A strong possibility," Heather agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him, tugging at his lip, eliciting a groan from Jake. "Call me, now that you can," she instructed him, pulling away slightly.
"Okay," he agreed, sighing. Jake kissed her again, not with the same all-encompassing passion he'd displayed twenty minutes earlier, but certainly with enough fervor to leave Heather shivering deliciously and her heart pounding. "Open your door," Jake instructed, taking a half-step back. "I'm gonna go."
Heather complied, unlocking her front door, pushing it open. She looked back at Jake. "Good night."
"Good night."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Monday, September 25, five days after the bombs
"Well, I need to go to a staff meeting tomorrow morning," Heather explained to her mother-in-law, looking over her shoulder. "I ran into Mrs. McVeigh between the clinic and your house this afternoon. She'd been looking for me. Apparently, we're gonna talk about when to re-open the school."
"Just the elementary, or the high school, too?" Johnston asked.
The four Greens - Johnston, Gail, Jake and Heather - had opted to walk the six blocks between the Green house and the church on Main Street. Jake had argued against it initially, worried that it might be too much walking for Heather, and that she'd re-injure her already broken leg. A compromise had been reached with Jake yielding to Heather's own judgment of her ability to walk as far as she wanted to, though she had had to promise that she'd tell him if she got tired, and let him go for the car then. Now, Heather and Jake had the lead, allowing her to set the group's pace. As far as Jake and Johnston were concerned, her speed had been good for the first block, but then Heather and Gail had started talking, and every time Heather looked back at her mother-in-law, she slowed down a little, unknowingly causing both Jake and Johnston to grit their teeth.
"I don't know anything about the high school," Heather replied, glancing back at Johnston. "Staff meeting's just for the elementary."
"Too bad," Johnston grumbled. "If the high school were back in session that'd solve half our problems," he complained.
"Half your problems? What are these kids up to?" Jake questioned, surprised. "Besides drinking and drag racing, there's not a whole lot you can do to get into trouble in Jericho, if you're sixteen, seventeen. You have to leave the county to find any real trouble."
"The voice of experience," Heather teased, squeezing Jake's hand and shooting him a knowing look.
Gail shook her head, groaning. "All I can say is that you had better not have been drinking and racing at the same time, Jake."
"I was never quite that stupid, Mom," Jake reassured her. "Stupid, but not that stupid."
Johnston cleared his throat. "Right now, we're dealing with vandalism, couple of burglaries," he told them, bringing the discussion back to its original point. "Bill caught Sean Henthorn and Travis Bauer breaking into an empty house on Granville last night."
"Huh," Jake acknowledged as they reached the intersection with Berge Avenue. "No wonder Jimmy spent half the day trying to talk me into being an emergency supply deputy." He and Heather started to cross the street. "I didn't promise him anything," he continued, "But I'm gonna go to the station tomorrow, see what I can do to help out." Jake looked over his shoulder at his father. "If you thought things were getting that bad, I'm surprised you didn't ask me yourself."
"Didn't think you'd be interested," Johnston admitted, his voice gruff.
"I'm not," Jake argued, shrugging. "I'll help out where I can, but I'm not a beat cop, and I'm not ever gonna wear a Jericho Sheriff's Department uniform."
"Aw, I think you'd look good in a sheriff's uniform," Heather told him, moving a step closer and tightening the hold she had on his arm. She actually thought the Jericho Sheriff's Department uniform was rather unflattering, and wouldn't look good on anyone, even Jake, but she was trying to dispel some of the tension that had crept into the conversation, assuage some of the hurt she'd detected in her husband's tone.
"Well, any help you can give would be appreciated," Johnston conceded. "Jimmy and Bill are both overwhelmed, so whatever you can do to help them out would be good."
Jake nodded, looking back at his parents. "Will do," he promised.
They walked on, a not completely comfortable silence falling over the party. "What time's your meeting tomorrow, Heather?" Gail asked finally.
"Ten," Heather answered quickly, glancing at her mother-in-law, her expression relieved. "Apparently there's one good thing to come out of the - this - everything that's happened," she stumbled over her words, chuckling uncomfortably. "Staff meetings aren't at six thirty in the morning anymore."
"Come for lunch afterward," Gail invited. "The meeting shouldn't run too long should it? You come, too, Jake, if you're around."
"Told you so," Jake murmured sotto voce, kissing Heather's ear.
Heather grinned at Jake, somehow managing to keep from laughing. She loved Gail, and appreciated the sometimes gentle, sometimes not, mothering the older woman bestowed upon her. Now though, it appeared that Gail had found a focus for her nervous energy, and it was Heather, or at least her health and less than stellar eating habits. Coming from nearly anyone else, Heather would have prickled under the scrutiny, would have been annoyed at the implied criticism. But, Heather knew that Gail loved her as one of her own children, and that her mother-in-law acted from that love, and not from a sense of superior judgment. For all the baggage, all the squabbles, that came with being one of the Greens, they were a family that, like the one Heather had been born into, looked after each other.
"Sounds good," Heather agreed, turning her head to smile back at Gail. "I don't think it's gonna be an easy meeting," she admitted. "We already don't have a music and performing arts teacher," she reminded, alluding to the death of Scott Rennie. "And, if half the other teachers are willing to come back, I'd be surprised." There had been some turnover in the five years that Heather had been teaching at Jericho Elementary, but she could still name four or five teachers she was sure would want to close the school, rather than continue its operation under the current sense of uncertainty. "But the kids need it," Heather sighed. "The sense of security and routine, even more than the academics."
"It's too soon to be makin' that decision, one way or the other," Johnston groused. "Guess I better find Charlie Moore and -"
"He was in Topeka," Heather interrupted, stopping. They were a half block from the church now. Heather turned to face her father-in-law. "Kansas State School Superintendents' annual conference," she explained. "I was supposed to go to Topeka next weekend myself, for the Elementary Science Curriculum committee quarterly meeting," she laughed uneasily. "The committee chairman called me a subversive at the last meeting, so he's probably glad at least that I won't be able to make it."
"We'll need to call an emergency school board meeting, then," Johnston sighed.
"Miranda Stevens is board president," Gail reminded, shaking her head. "She's in New York. Skylar was complaining about being left behind to anyone who'd listen all last week."
"Well, crap," Johnston said, eloquently expressing what they were all thinking.
"Exactly," Heather agreed, nodding. "Look," she sighed, "If it goes to a vote tomorrow, I'm voting to re-open. And, if it's left up to each of us individually, well, I might be the only teacher who actually chooses to come back, but that's what I'm gonna do."
"It's a quarter to," Gail told them, checking her watch. "And, this will keep 'til tomorrow," she suggested. "For now, we should get to the church."
They all agreed, and Jake and Heather turned around, leading the way once again. Jake draped his arm around Heather's shoulders, pulling her close. "Thank God, you weren't in Topeka," he muttered.
She looked up at him, eyes wide. Heather hadn't considered it before, but Jake was right. If the bombs had gone off ten days later, she would have been in Topeka, and away from Jericho. Again, she found herself thankful for the miracle of timing that had allowed both of them to be home when disaster had struck. "Yeah," she breathed, wrapping her arm around his waist.
The four continued on to the church without speaking. Arriving, they spotted Stanley and Bonnie, who were both climbing out of Stanley's truck, which he'd parked across the street.
"Hey there, Mama," Stanley called out, leading his sister across the street by the elbow.
Gail gave Stanley an odd look. "Hello, Stanley. Bonnie," she greeted.
"Oh, I meant that Mama," Stanley explained, pointing at the blushing Heather. "Not that you're not a great mom, Mrs. Green," he assured her quickly. "It's just that it bugs her, so of course I have to call her 'Mama' as often possible."
Heather closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I knew I was gonna regret ever reacting, but I still did," she sighed, laughing softly at herself.
"Yeah, that wasn't too smart of you, Mama," Stanley agreed sympathetically, eliciting a frustrated groan from Heather.
"Well, play nice, children," Gail advised, amused by Heather's predicament, but trying to appear like she wasn't. She accepted Johnston's hand. "Don't stay out here too long," she told them, following her husband up the path to church door.
"Stanley, we haven't told a lot of people," Heather tried to reason with him. She couldn't bring herself to voice her more serious concern that something would go wrong, or already had. "And, we weren't going to, yet," she told him. "And you," she added, glancing sideways to glare at Jake, "Feel free to jump in and be overprotective whenever you're ready."
"Sorry," Jake grinned, looking anything but. "I thought it was funny." He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head, and then affected a stern look, addressing his best friend. "Stanley, stop calling my wife 'Mama'," he ordered.
Stanley made a show of considering it for a moment, and then shook his head 'no'. "This is really too good to give up," he explained. "But, I'll say it really quietly for now, that way nobody will overhear. Mama," he said in a stage whisper, demonstrating his solution. "How's that?"
"Don't be such a jerk," Bonnie piped up then, hitting her brother lightly on the arm.
Heather smiled at Bonnie. "Thank you." She looked at Jake. "Ready to go in?"
"Actually," Stanley interjected, his tone suddenly serious. "Do you mind, Jake, if I borrow your wife for a minute?"
Jake snorted. "Hey, it's your -"
"I wouldn't trust him if I were you, Jake," Eric Green interrupted, joining them from behind, and clapping his brother on the shoulder. "We all know that Stanley's been after Heather for years," he joked.
"Eric," April protested from beside him. She looked like she had more to say, but she spotted Heather shaking her head, and refrained.
"You know, it really is a burden to be so adored," Heather said, emitting an exaggerated sigh, and throwing Jake a significant look on the word 'adored' that earned her a soft smile.
"I do adore you, Heather," Stanley argued, trying unsuccessfully to keep from laughing. "And yet you resist all of my attempts to seduce you."
Heather giggled in return. "I love you, too, Stanley," she told him. "And, you're right," she agreed, "I do find you absolutely resistible." Everyone laughed, and Stanley, hanging his head, conceded defeat.
"So," April said, stepping around Eric and then Jake to stand next to Heather, "I hear that I have you to thank for the fact that my clinic is still up and running. So, thank you," she declared, hugging Heather.
"I just had the idea," Heather answered, shrugging. "The guys did all the dangerous work, while I supervised from thirty feet away."
"Exactly as it should be," April joked. "Seriously," she said, glancing at Jake and then Stanley, "Thank you both. I can breathe easy - I can leave work - at least for tonight."
"Yeah," Eric echoed grudgingly, "Thanks for your help."
"We could only get Mr. Murthy to agree to give us the gas by paying for it, so Jake took care of that, too," Heather added.
"Nah, I didn't," Jake contradicted. "Murthy never took my credit card, which is probably a good thing. The only one I had on me belongs to the federal government."
"Don't say that too loudly," Stanley advised, looking around at the arriving crowd. "If my own personal IRS agent hears you, she'd probably decide to audit you."
"Your personal IRS agent?" Jake questioned. "What's going on?"
Stanley shrugged. "It's nothing. Apparently I owe Uncle Sam some money. No big deal."
"Ms. Clark?" April asked, rolling her eyes. "She's an interesting one. She was convinced that she was going to die after she put her hand in a puddle after the storm. I checked her out, and she didn't have any cuts or burns, so I told her to wash her hands and go home," April recounted. "She threatened to sue me."
"She's really not that bad," Stanley argued.
"Yes, she is," Bonnie interrupted, shaking her head. "She wants our farm."
"She was just doing her job," Stanley reasoned. "And now she's stuck in Jericho for who knows how long. She's a little high-strung and all, but you know, I kinda feel bad for her."
More people were arriving at the church now, and the bell started to ring, signaling that the service would start soon. "We should get inside," Eric suggested, everyone else nodding in agreement.
"Heather," Stanley reminded when she started to turn toward the church with Jake.
"Oh, right." She looked up at her husband, tilting her head. "I'll meet you inside," she promised.
Jake nodded, kissing her quickly. "Just make sure you give her back," he told Stanley, then offered his arm to Bonnie, who accepted, giggling.
"So what's up?" Heather asked as Stanley stepped closer, his expression serious.
"How's Jake?" he asked.
Heather frowned. "What do you mean? Jake's fine."
Stanley shook his head. "Well, yeah, he seems fine right now," he agreed. "But out at the lake.... It was awful, Heather. All those people, dead. It got to us all, but, for some reason, it really got to him. He was..." Stanley paused, trying to find the right word. "He was really rattled by it," he decided.
"He told me about it, some," she admitted, pursing her lips. "And, you're right, it got to him," she acknowledged with a sigh. "I guess it's lucky I'm pregnant, and so I couldn't go out there. I would have otherwise."
"I'm glad you didn't see that," Stanley told her. "Not because you're a woman or anything like that," he continued, anticipating her protest. "Just, you care about people, you love kids," Stanley argued. "And, you didn't need to see all those people, dead. We didn't do anything for 'em except bury them, and we didn't need you for that."
Heather nodded once. "Okay," she agreed quietly.
"Just - not that you don't already, but - take care of him," Stanley ordered. "It's just - It was only for a minute - less, really - but we were, you know, burying a body, and I looked at Jake," he explained, sighing. "I've only seen him look like that once before. Three days after Chris Sullivan."
"Okay," Heather acknowledged, shivering slightly. She hadn't known Jake when Chris had died, but she had sat through Jake's week of testimony during Jonah Prowse's trial, and she'd seen how just recounting the events around Chris's death and Jonah's arrest had affected him.
"Just watch him," Stanley requested. They stared at one another for a moment, and the he smiled weakly at Heather, offering her his hand. "Come on, we better get in. Mrs. Green will kill me if we walk in late."
"No doubt," she agreed, allowing him to lead her up the walk and steps, and into the church.
Inside, they spotted Gail, Jake and Bonnie sitting in the first pew, with Eric and April directly behind them. "There isn't room enough for me up there," Stanley told Heather. "I'll go in here," he added, pointing to two empty spots about halfway up the aisle. "Send Bonnie back, okay, Mama?" he whispered, grinning at her.
"Fine," she agreed, chuckling quietly. Heather walked to the front of the church, and Bonnie stood up, ready to yield her seat. Heather pointed her toward Stanley, and then sat down next to Jake, who laid his arm across the back of the pew and pulled her closer.
Reverend Young opened the service with a short prayer, and then handed the lectern over to Johnston. "Earlier today, we buried twenty people," he began, slowly surveying the assembly. Heather, taking Stanley's charge to heart, studied Jake, watching his reaction to his father's words. "Refugees from Denver, people we, we didn't know, but were prepared to welcome into our town," Johnston continued. "Unfortunately, they died of radiation poisoning."
Jake flinched involuntarily, and Heather reached for his hand on her shoulder, laying her own hand over his, squeezing it tightly. He looked at her, offering a weak smile before lifting his arm over her head, and dropping his hand in her lap, where she cradled it in both of hers. They returned their attention to his father.
"For those people from Denver, and for our own people, for Sheriff Dawes, Deputy Riley, for Deputy Connor and Deputy Salem," Johnston listed, "People out there, somewhere, we know nothin' about who might be sufferin' and dying right now. I ask that we take a moment of silence."
On either side of him, his mother and wife bowed their heads on cue, Jake following suit a second later. Quiet pervaded the church, but Jake's thoughts were racing, sounding loudly in his head. 'I'm sorry, Victor,' he caught himself almost praying, 'For what we did to you. For not finding your daughter in time.'
Time trudged along slowly, the moment of silence Johnston had called for, drawn out almost unbearably. Finally, to Jake's profound relief, his father cleared his throat, signaling for their attention. Those gathered in the church all looked up.
"If you've lost a loved one, would you please stand?" Johnston invited softly.
There was a rustling sound as throughout the sanctuary people climbed to their feet. Jake watched his father looking around, making brief eye contact with each person.
"If someone you love is missing, would you join those standing?" Johnston requested next.
Heather rose to her feet, thinking, Jake knew, of her father, her brothers and their wives, her nieces and nephews. Jake stood beside her, clutching her hand, then reaching for his mother's hand as well, when he felt her arm brush his. He didn't look around, but Jake knew it was likely that everyone was standing. Jericho was a small town, a close-knit town, one that welcomed new residents with open arms, and at the same time sent her children out to make their way in the world, with the hope that one day they would return. Everyone had someone they were missing.
"We stand because we know that every life matters," Johnston told them, his voice rough with compassion. "We have to fight for every life. Even when it seems hopeless. Even when we're afraid," he sighed. "Because the battle ahead isn't just for our survival," he declared. "It's for our humanity."
Both Heather and his mother squeezed his hands, and Jake glanced between them, taking in their nearly identical, teary-eyed but resolved expressions. Jake had long had little use for politics, but he was willing to acknowledge his father's abilities as a leader, his gift, on occasion, for meaningful oratory. Tonight, his father had said what they all needed to hear.
Someone in the back of the church began to sing, others picking up the song as it seemed to flow forward. Jake didn't recognize it until Heather, and then his mother, joined in. They were singing Amazing Grace, and Jake couldn't help but wonder how they all could possibly see any of the grace of God in their current situation. Except, he realized, they were all alive, and mostly unharmed, and relatively safe, and with each other. Whether that was God or dumb luck, it was something to be thankful for.
Jake started to sing along, surprised to find the words, buried, somewhere within him. He supposed it was like Take Me Out to the Ballgame, or the national anthem, or the words to the Gilligan's Island theme song; you learned them all at some point in childhood, and you knew them forever.
Reverend Young had planned to dismiss the short service with another prayer, but as the last notes of the song died out, he settled for pronouncing a heartfelt "Amen," and exchanging a quick handshake with Johnston. The crowd began to gather their things and slowly depart the church.
"I'm going to wait for your father," Gail said to Jake and Heather, "But you two feel free to go on ahead."
"We're gonna head home," Jake reminded.
Gail nodded. "We'll see you both tomorrow," she told them, kissing Jake and then Heather on the cheek. "Good night." She then moved on to Eric and April, Johnston still tied up in a small knot of people, all seeking a word with their mayor.
Jake and Heather exchanged quick 'good nights' with his brother and sister-in-law, and then made their way, holding hands, out of the church. Outside, they waved goodbye to Bonnie and Stanley, who mouthed the word 'Mama' at Heather, causing her to laugh and groan and lean her head against Jake's shoulder.
Neither saw Emily approaching until she was standing directly in front of then, not exactly smiling, but looking pulled together and impervious. This was the Emily they were most used to, the 'I don't care what you think' Emily that Jake had long ago decided to simply coexist with. "Hey," she greeted them softly. "Are you feeling better, Heather?"
"Better?" Heather repeated, lifting her head.
Emily nodded. "Yeah. You didn't come to the lake, which - I just thought you would," she explained. "Jake said you weren't feeling well."
"Oh. Yeah. Right. Well. That. Yeah. Right. I'm feeling better now," Heather answered.
"Good," Emily declared, smiling at her. She glanced at Jake, and then surprised the hell out of him by kissing him on the cheek. "Jake, you're a good man for trying to help someone you didn't even know," she told him. Emily stepped back, and turned away, disappearing quickly into the unlit night.
"Well, okay then," Heather muttered, her expression stunned.
Jake smiled softly, trying not to laugh. "You're not jealous of Emily Sullivan," he reminded her.
"I'm not," she agreed with a sigh.
"And, you have no reason to be," he added, wrapping his arm around her. Jake turned them both, steering Heather in the direction of his parents' house and their car.
"I don't," Heather confirmed. She waited a moment, and then looked up at Jake. "You didn't tell her."
"Neither did you," Jake countered.
"I'm not telling anyone I don't love," Heather explained, "Not for now, anyway."
"Me either," he told her. "Well, except for Bill and Jimmy," he admitted. "Telling them was kinda collateral damage. But I told 'em both today to keep it to themselves. Okay?"
Heather stopped, stepping in front of Jake and reaching up to wipe off his cheek where Emily had kissed him. He laughed at her, but ceased when she placed one hand on the back of his neck, pulling his head down to where she could reach him, and then pressed her lips to the same spot. "Okay," she murmured.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *