Chapter 4: Tuesday Morning

That night, Jack was slumped over Aja's desk, eyeing his mother's freshly-laundered cap and quietly digesting leftover curry. He'd spent most of his day quietly tidying up the house, and exercising in Aja's room with the weights and punching bag that were still there. With a pang, he'd noticed how - despite the general messiness of the room - not a speck of dust could be found.

Dinner had been spent carefully avoiding Manna's proud gaze, listening politely as she prattled on to him and Duke about the latest nothings happening in Mineral Town. She had, indeed, told everyone she'd met that day about Jack's ambitions to pick up where his parents had left off, and Jack suddenly felt his stomach churn in spite of the delicious food.

In spite of his reservations, he was already compiling a mental inventory of what needed to be done the next day - all the while ignoring that nagging voice that kept pressing him about what he'd do if he'd taken a path he didn't like again.

Running away didn't help me the first time, he thought, drumming his fingers on the cap. Looking at a framed photo of Aja, Duke, Manna, and Harris dancing at the New Year's festival, he smiled sadly. Wish I could've told her that. I wonder why she left...? He hadn't thought it wise to ask Manna, and he was a bit intimidated by the thought of asking Duke, whose eyes became eerily dark whenever Aja's name was mentioned in passing. Jack wasn't terribly surprised by this, though - even his own shouting matches with his parents hadn't been as loud and frightening as the ones that had regularly come from the winery all those years ago.

Putting the photo back on the desk, he yawned and stretched, heading back over to look out the window at the farm - now bathed in dim, silvery moonlight.

He smiled wryly as he spotted the bathroom window. It was absolutely shattered by this point, but it had been in the perfect position for Jack to peer out with his telescope, looking into Aja's window while she changed... at least until she'd busted the telescope on his tenth birthday with a frighteningly well-aimed rock. Duke and Manna had had to physically restrain her from marching down to the farm and doing the same thing to his face, and his parents had refused to replace his telescope after that.

The next morning, Jack crept out of bed before Manna arose, and snuck downstairs, only to find Duke already sitting in his armchair in the living room, upper body hidden behind the paper.

"Why do they put so many goddamn pages in this thing?" Duke grumbled to himself, taking a deep swig of coffee. "Morning, Jack."

"Morning, Duke," Jack called, heading over to the fridge. He peered inside, and was slightly disheartened to notice that the package of bacon Manna had bought yesterday was missing, as well as some pancake batter. "You already made breakfast?"

"Mmmhmm. It's on the stove."

"Oh..." Jack slumped. "Thanks." Feeling rather slow and with more than a twinge of guilt, he fixed himself a plate and sat down at the table again. Well, maybe I can treat them to lunch, he thought, lazily arranging his pancakes and bacon into a smiley face with gigantic eyebrows. "What're you lookin' at, Groucho?"

He heard the paper rustle, followed by Duke muttering something that sounded like "for fuck's sake, just eat it".

"So, Gotz is supposed to stop by the farm tomorrow to take a look at the house," Duke continued, raising his voice slightly. "Size it up, take measurements, all that kinda stuff. Construction should begin shortly after that, Thomas said. Of course, Gotz's gonna propose some blueprints first, floor plans for you and all that. Make sure you like it."

"Huh?" Jack looked over his shoulder at the talking newspaper. "But isn't he gonna need materials, money, stuff like that?"

"Thomas is footing the bill for this one," Duke explained. Seeing Jack's bewildered look, he clarified: "Look, just let him do this for you."

"But-"

"He's a pain in the ass when somebody makes him cry," Duke finished darkly. "And some carpenter over in Harmonica Town is supposed to come by and help with the construction. He'll have the materials. Nothing real extravagant, though."

Jack hummed, and drained his glass of orange juice as he pondered this news. "Think they'll let me clear the fields while they're working?"

"Long as you stay out of the way, I don't see why not."

"Oh, are you heading over there to start today?" Manna's voice called, as she joined them downstairs.

"I think so," Jack responded, rinsing his dishes off and turning to head back upstairs. "I may as well. But I need to stop by the inn and make a few calls first." Halfway up the stairs, he stopped, remembering something else. "By the way, are you two free for lunch this afternoon? It's on me."

Manna beamed up at him.

The town had been reasonably quiet in the fifty-some hours since Jack's return, at least on the few occasions he'd ventured outside - and this had not gone unnoticed by the young man, who was silently grateful for the fact. There were some faces he was dreading seeing more than others, and he cursed inwardly as two of those faces approached him on his way to the inn.

Karen Clark was quick to move. "Rick, that's... HEY!" Like a bullet, she shot straight towards Jack, her long, dirty-blonde hair flying behind her like a banner. "JACK!"

Eyes widening, Jack's mind took over and he gracefully spun to the side, avoiding Karen's... nothing. She'd simply skidded to a stop in front of him, her face a mixture of confusion, anger, and something he couldn't identify.

She cocked her head to the side as Rick Aberlen joined her. "Jack, what the hell's with the dancing?"

Cringing, Jack met her gaze, noting with interest that she had grown quite a bit taller than him. "Uhh... actually, I thought you were gonna... you know what? Never mind that. Hey, Rick," he nodded to his former neighbor, smile faltering completely when he saw the look Rick had given him.

"Hey." If his blue eyes were like chips of ice, Rick's voice was absolute zero. "I guess you're back."

Laughing nervously, Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess so?" He nodded towards Karen. "How's the supermarket doing?"

Karen folded her arms, staring venomously at Jack and tossing her hair over her shoulders. Her green eyes were hard and narrowed. "We've been better."

Rubbing his arm, Jack turned to Rick. "And, umm... the farm?"

"Okay. Dad left. Mom's been real sick." With every word Rick spoke, Jack felt smaller and smaller, allowing the chill to creep over him that much faster. "I've been handling things by myself. Popuri can't."

Karen arched an eyebrow. "So, I hear you've decided you want to work on the farm after all. You know, now that you can do it on your own terms." She instantly regretted her choice of words when she saw the look on Jack's face. "Okay, that was way below the belt," she admitted softly, biting her lip.

"No, you're right. I fucked up," Jack said, his voice almost a whisper now, as Karen nodded fervently. "I can't undo that. But maybe I can make something right."

"You really think you're up to it?" Karen asked quietly, to which he just waved his hand meekly. "Okay, if you say so. Suit yourself."

"Why'd you do it, Jack?"

Karen and Jack both turned their gazes on Rick, who was in turn staring at the ground, as if he couldn't stand to look at the younger man.

Jack wasn't quite sure which question was specifically being asked of him. "Do what?"

"Leave them like that."

"Rick-"

"No, Karen, I want to know." He wasn't shouting, nor was his voice as icy as it had been moments ago - there was only horrible, quiet, unbearable disappointment. "I want to know how he could do that to them. They thought you hated them. They died thinking you-"

"RICK!" Karen yelled, whirling around and yanking on his coppery hair, causing him to yelp and shoot a glare at her. Turning back to Jack, she started to apologize, but shook her head instead. Jack was gone. "You idiot..."

Feeling far too calm after his encounter with Rick and Karen, Jack made his way to the one place he'd been hoping to avoid as long as possible - the cemetery. Hoping Pastor Carter wasn't awake yet to see him outside, Jack slipped through the half-open iron gates and ambled slowly through the rows of stones and plaques, taking in names both familiar and strange. His eyes widened slightly as he passed a tombstone engraved with two names he knew all too well - Elle and Kyle Farbess.

Running his fingers over the engravings, he whispered Elli's name, sighing heavily. Judging by the dates, her parents had passed away only four years after Jack had left town. He couldn't imagine what the past decade had been like for her. Her parents and Jack's had been especially close - both couples having been the godparents of each others' children - and she had idolized the hard-working farmers with a reverence he'd never quite understood until recently.

As he passed the graves of his grandparents and great-grandparents - the original owners of the farm, a business his grandmother hadn't had the patience for - Jack felt his throat grow dry. His fingers and eyes started to tingle. There was no wishing away the truth before him now.

Charles Marcus Brennan & Millie Jacqueline Brennan

1967 - 2006

Stroking the headstone gently, he closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh spring air and letting the sun warm his face. A slight breeze caressed his neck. "Hey, guys." His voice was low and steady, despite the reality of the situation slowly sinking into him as he spoke. "I'm home. I know I came a little too late, but I'm home." Bowing his head, he continued, "I don't know what I was expecting, honestly. Not this. I know that much. But I just want you to know, what Rick said back there..." He let out a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to think that. I don't know what I wanted you guys to think. Maybe I didn't even think about that. Guess that's not too surprising, though." He laughed bitterly.

"I don't know if you've heard yet, but I'm taking over. I, uhh... to be honest, I'm kind of..." The words had stopped coming so easily now, and he let his hand drop to his side. "I'm going to try my best. I swear I will. If that isn't enough, though... if I fail anyway, that-" He slid his eyes shut and took a deep breath, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry... please don't hate me for what I did. I lo... I-" The words had stopped coming, sealed off as the weight settled fully in his stomach. Kneeling, he pressed his lips softly to the warm granite, resting his cheek against the headstone and closing his eyes.

He didn't know how much time had passed while he knelt there, his eyes flying open when he finally heard the soft rustling of someone else walking through the cemetery.

"I thought we might find you here," a warm voice called, the sound stirring up a strong mixture of happiness and anxiety in Jack. He stayed silent as the owner of the voice - and someone else, from the sound of the footsteps - came to a rest a short distance behind him.

Jack stayed where he was, not even having the energy to turn his head. "Elli, I-"

He was cut off as her arms enveloped him from behind, the scent of jasmine tickling his nose. He suddenly felt far safer and more comfortable than he had in a long time, reaching up with one hand to cover hers. Her skin was soft, her breathing deep and soothing.

"Welcome home," she murmured into the crook of his neck, lacing their fingers together. He smiled and brushed his lips across her knuckles, causing her to giggle. "You big charmer, you."

An uncomfortable cough from behind them caused the two to look over, where Karen stood by an angel statue, drumming her fingers on one of the wings and picking at a loose thread on her dress with her other hand. She approached the pair hesitantly, looking unsure of what she should say, if anything. After a moment of silent deliberation, she made up her mind: "Crap. Umm, look, Jack, about earlier-"

Jack just smiled and shook his head, letting Elli help him to his feet. "Let's let it drop. Deal?" Karen nodded gratefully, slumping against the statue in visible relief. Jack brushed the dirt and daisy petals off the knees of his jeans, looking to the side innocently as he slipped one of the petals down the back of Elli's sweater. She shrieked and laughed, squirming as he dropped more and more petals and blades of grass down there.

Karen rolled her eyes, grinning wryly. "Geez, you guys adjusted to this fast."

"It wasn't the same picking on my friends in the city," Jack laughed, yelping as Elli poked him between the ribs. As the two calmed down, he took a moment to take his first good look at her in a long time - like Karen, she'd grown a little taller than him, though she wasn't quite as tall or willowy as the blonde - and her honey-brown hair now tickled the nape of her neck, tied back in a short, loose braid. Like Jack, she had a small sprinkling of light freckles across her nose and cheeks. "Wow, you look great, Elli."

She grinned, crinkling her nose. "Thanks, but you should see the portrait I keep under my floorboards."

Karen pouted playfully, twirling her hair between her fingers. "What, only her?"

Feeling a bit more at ease now, Jack looked over Karen carefully, as though considering this remark. Damn gorgeous, as she'd always been. "Wow, you look great, Elli," he repeated, causing the three to laugh, and Karen to smack him on the arm.

"Yeah, well, your ass's gotten big anyway," she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him.

As the three left the cemetery, Jack couldn't help but ask something:

"Elli?"

"Mmm?"

"...Did all of the girls here grow taller than me?"

After bidding farewell to Elli, who had to go to work, Jack and Karen made their way to the Juniper Inn together.

"You know, some girls think short guys are sexy," Karen teased, laughing as Jack sulked over topping out at five-foot-five. Her face grew serious, however, and she dropped her voice: "Look, I know what Rick said might have hurt, but he's really just upset about his dad leaving."

Jack shrugged it off. "I really can't blame him. Why'd his dad leave, anyway?"

Sighing, Karen ran her fingers through her hair. "Lillia's been really ill for a long time now. I can't really say when it started, but... she's become real frail, can't do much of anything without getting exhausted easily, constant pain..." A shadow had fallen across her face.

"What the hell can do that?" Jack murmured, his voice hushed.

"Nobody knows." She shook her head helplessly. "Dr. Hardy from Forget-me-not came over to study it, we have a guy here from Flowerbud, overseas... and nobody can figure it out. Basil exhausted himself like... five times staying up for days on end, trying to find any kind of herbal remedies." She collapsed against the inn wall with a loud whoosh of air. "And then Rod was doing research with him, but he was looking on the mystical side of stuff - saw this legend about a rare desert flower, or something, I think it's a centennial thing, and," she made finger quotes here, "it has 'amazing medicinal properties'. So he set out to find it. That was about... ten years ago. He writes to check in on everyone occasionally, but..."

Standing there, absorbing all this new information, Jack was overwhelmed. "You know," he said slowly, "I'm afraid to ask what else has changed at this point."

"You'll see," Karen said ominously. "Look, I've gotta take care of some stuff right now, but I'll see you later, okay?" Waving to him, she hurried off in the direction of the town square.

The muffled hum of a vacuum cleaner floated down from the second floor of the relatively empty inn to greet Jack as he took a seat at the end of the bar inside, nodding to Doug, who looked up from shelving a crate of scotch.

"What'll it be?"

Jack shook his head, looking around at the few patrons scattered about - a sly-looking Asian man in a violently yellow overcoat, smiling slickly as he chattered and drank with a fairly pompous-looking, long-faced man. They were already both fairly red-cheeked. Harris watched the two, from his own table, looking rather disinterested. "Nothing yet. Duke and Manna are meeting me here for lunch in a bit, though. This phone still call out long-distance?" he asked, already halfway through dialing out.

"Yep. 'Scuse me." He scowled and carried two more beers over to where the Asian man was banging his empty mug on the table, looking quite smug while Harris admonished him in hissing whispers.

Snickering at the sight of Harris yanking irritably on the man's long braid, Jack played an erratic rhythm on the bar with his free hand while the phone rang... and rang... and rang...

"Hey, thanks for calling The Woodwork. This's Harry Johnson, what can I do you for?"

"Uhh, Harry?" Jack whispered, keeping his voice as low as he could. "It's Jack."

"Oh, Jack! Vacation over already?" Harry asked, his deep voice threatening to boom out over the receiver. "You know, the crowds are kinda... not... without you here. When you coming back?"

Sighing, Jack muttered, "Sorry, but I've gotta stay here for a while. Stuff I've gotta take care of."

Harry's tongue clicked on the other end of the line. "Quittin', huh? Damn shame, son. You know how popular you were with the customers."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Can't someone else there be popular?"

"Guess they'll have to," Harry sighed. "Well, can't say I didn't see it coming, though. You didn't look too happy out there. Didn't feel right, keeping you on."

Jack shifted slightly. "Sorry, Harry. You're not pissed?"

"Feh, pissed? What kind of boss would I be? You do what you've gotta do, and you take care of yourself doing it. Or I'll come over there and break your damn legs, because none of these guys have half the skill you do."

Jack let out a small chuckle at this. "I guess I should be flattered, huh?"

"I'd be!"

After exchanging goodbyes and hanging up, Jack spun around in his chair and let out a yell when he saw Duke and Manna standing there, smiling. "Geez!"

"Hi!" Manna trilled. "We're here for lunch!"

A short time later - after being introduced to the rather pompous Kano, warned by Harris about the shady Won, and just missing Ann for the second time - Jack bid everyone goodbye and headed down to the farm, cracking his knuckles and slipping his jacket and shirt off to drape over the battered mailbox. With a loud, creaking sigh, it tipped over into the dirt from the added weight, and Jack shook his head.

It was time to get to work.

Author's Notes: EPIC WEEDING TIME. Let's do garden forever!

I'm slowly getting into the groove of upping the story's pace some beyond just set-up - and since I just ended a vacation, and I want to be more careful to ensure I achieve the feel I want here, updates may be a bit more sporadic from here on out. And thank you again to the reviewers (Seventh Chance in particular) for the feedback so far! Feel free to continue leaving some - good, bad, happy, sad, sexually inappropriate.