Part 3

Kansas, Summer 2010

Despite what John had said, they were not okay. Adjusting to a life with no memory was difficult as it was. Liz had been a blessing. She'd made him sit still long enough to take inventory of himself. He had an aversion to hospitals, cops. He somehow had working knowledge of most common firearms. The aversion may have been necessary. That was scary but not something he shared with his young friend. Despite her tales of romping the country with her wayward husband, escaping from some unnamed threat. It just felt too much like giving himself away and that feeling was one he didn't ignore. Playing his cards close to the vest felt natural.

Cars, he knew cars. He had become indispensible to the body shop and its steady stream of people who can't operate their own cars and wanted to road trip across the country despite this deficiency. He'd begun a journal, cataloguing the things he was learning about himself, just in case it triggered more memories. When a half of one appeared, he wrote it down and sometimes in that process the whole memory appeared. Whole. None of them had been whole. He still didn't know his real name but given the choice between Jack and John, he preferred John. It was only the rare occasion that anyone called him Jack anymore. Sometimes, Liz did, just to subtly remind him that he still didn't have a clue who he really was when he stared a sticking point for no reason other than it was.

Liz Evans was most assuredly not John's daughter. She could confirm that. She had her own dad and she knew who he was and where he lived. John liked the girl. She was a blessing. A kind soul when most couldn't give a crap and John could confirm that. He'd been through a dozen towns since coming to in the woods two states over. Not a single soul had been so kind as to give him a free cup of coffee out of the goodness of their hearts, forget a large slice of day old pie and eventually a couch to crash on after a hot shower. Maybe she had only begged off those last two but she'd been instrumental in their occurrence.

She'd helped him get a job, get a place to crash that wasn't Carter's smelly old break couch and took him to get clothes at the Goodwill a town over. She'd fed him a couple of times a week from her little kitchenette. In all that time, she hadn't seemed interested, romantically, but John felt that he'd never been very good at reading those things. Since that line had been crossed, he paid more attention to those things and did some thinking about his memories of her prior to that night. He had a recall that was astounding to himself and really kind of made him mad and frustrated about not remembering anything from before South Dakota.

Liz was a toucher. Always touching him. Small grazes of a finger on his shoulder. A ruffle of his hair in passing. A random hug at lunch in the diner. Kisses to the forehead on spaghetti night. Those were pretty awesome. Nothing from her to indicate that she was physically attracted to him. He was twice her age, he assumed. He would have to admit that he'd thought about it before. The minute he'd felt like a person again in this forsaken town, he'd looked at her and taken inventory and categorized it in his mind that he would not kick her out of bed. She was short, small and the kind of lean that came from sleepless nights, low food budget and walking everywhere from a lack of car.

When forced to think about it, he knew he shouldn't. He'd hugged her back, laid his own kisses on her head while she read to him from science journals and magazines while he tinkered on some object she'd broken and required his hands to fix. He never thought she'd sleep with him. He'd never thought to put the move on. The possibility in his mind was that if it happened, he wasn't going to refuse. He figured that was about what any man would do. So, it had happened after a long night of drinking, which they had never done together before… possibly because he'd never let them do it before. A near-miss with a mugger and a knife. So much alcohol and confusion. The panic of just surviving a bad situation, coupled with the possibility that he could have done much more damage to the guy if only he had known what he was capable of.

Adrenaline made for awesome sex. Half-thought. John scribbled it down in his journal. The sex was fine. It was great. It was the only sex John had in memory… but he was somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 years old. Statistically speaking, he'd probably had several partners that he couldn't remember. Something had pulled in his chest that morning after. Like he had betrayed someone. Bits of the night had come to him. Liz had told him that he'd married his true love and that she was dead. Liz really had no way of knowing one way or another. Surely, if she knew who he was, she would tell him. She seemed like that kind of person.

John didn't let himself drink with her again. She was his best friend and a comfort but he couldn't cross that line again. His mind drew him back to her eyes again and again. The way she looked at him just humbled him. He didn't think anyone could look at him that way. Like he was the answer to the world. Like Superman or something.

Still her face. He doodled a little. Drew the outline of her face, chin and jaw in her hand. Teeth chewing at her bottom lip while she hid a smile. Outlined her eyes, big and brown that… his drawing couldn't do justice to that wetness they held. The emotion she carried in them. His pencil broke when he was halfway done with her hair. It was crude but he could tell who it was. He snapped the journal shut and tossed the pencil away. He was a dirty old man.

Eyes burning, Liz shut them to rest. She'd taken a week off of work to type. It plagued her and it was the life he lived before the fire. She couldn't see anything past the fire. War. He'd been an excellent marksman. He was a good person. He didn't seem to have any faith. It reminded her of Gideon from the book of Judges. She'd been reading up on the gospels. Then she'd gone back to the Old Testament. It was a testament of how people had been wrong to each other since the beginning of time but that at least some were willing to beat back the darkness.

The fire kept drawing her mind but she couldn't write more about it. There was something in that fire that she couldn't see. She reread her text over and over hoping that if she saw the holes, she could plug them. The wife and kids didn't even have names. John's wife. John's oldest. John's baby.

Turning on the search engine, she tried searching for house fires in the '90s. Nothing was coming up that matched John. She was trying so hard. He looked 50ish, maybe a little younger. In the vision, he seemed 30 but… when he was dating his wife, he was… the war. That one didn't fit. He could have been in Desert Storm but the clothes he wore, that his wife had worn. They weren't '90s clothes. They weren't '80s clothes.

Slamming her laptop shut, she stood and walked around the room. She still didn't understand why she'd been tapped to do this. She was convinced now that she had been summoned to this town to meet John and to write this account of his life but what else? To watch over him? To make him stay put? To jump his bones like a needy drunk girl?

She should probably stop avoiding him. She hadn't made him a meal in two weeks. He was probably living off bologna sandwiches. Showering, she got dressed and went to the store for food. She realized she hadn't fed herself all that well since getting caught up in the details of a life lived at war.

At the drugstore, she tried on a pair of readers. They seemed to ease the ache in her eyes. She bumped into a tall fellow carrying an armload of first aid supplies. She took her tampons and readers and gave him her basket. He looked like he felt bad taking it but she insisted. She took inventory as she helped him load the supplies. Then she led him back down the aisle and replaced some of his supplies with actual useful materials. He looked abashed for a minute. She just patted him on the arm and got in line to check out. It was good for her karma. Though, it was possible that her karma was all set. She was writing some biblical text about a guy that had angels looking after him. Still, it didn't hurt to be a good person and do good for others.

On her way down the street, she passed a handsome fellow leaning on his car. The car made her slow down. Shiny and black and all the lines screamed "Drive Me!" The young man grinned and offered her a ride, but not in his car. She raised an eyebrow at him and kept going. She wouldn't even acknowledge his comments with any verbal retort. Don't feed the trolls. Alex Whitman had always told her that. She never really knew what it meant but it was funny. She hadn't thought of Alex in ages. She missed him.

Somehow she finally got home, cooked a decent meal and sighed heavily. She wrapped up half of it and put her jacket back on. It was dark out and she probably shouldn't be out and around by herself. Still, she made her way to the basement apartment he had under the old courthouse. It was a soup kitchen these days and John could probably eat there only he never did. He had a job now and paid rent. He was doing his darnedest to make it on his own.

When he opened the door, he was half in the bottle. Liz sighed and put the food in his hands. He ate slowly and she cleaned the mess he'd made of the place while she'd been holed up in her apartment. Standing over him, she brushed his hair out of his face. He looked all of a lost little boy. Drunk and beard covered in gravy. She handed him a napkin and sighed heavily. She kissed his forehead and then walked home. He really wasn't her responsibility. No one had said that she should take care of him. She had just done it because it was obvious the man needed help. She'd done that. He was functioning as part of society now.

But she wasn't. So she drank a glass of cheap wine and tossed and turned in bed until she couldn't take it anymore. She shoved her hand inside her panties and slid her fingers against her folds, flicked a fingertip against the tight bud when it swelled, she breathed his name over and over again until she came, hips jerking against her hand. It was just a masturbatory fantasy. It didn't mean anything… really, it didn't. He was just the first man she'd had sex with since her husband had left the planet.

Unsatisfied with the situation but satisfied for the moment, Liz rolled onto her side and curled into a ball… still reserving half the bed for a husband who had given up on their happily ever after. In a fit of ornery and childish behavior, she turned until she was smack in the middle of her bed. She didn't share that anymore. Even John had elected for the couch after their night together. Maybe she was just destined to be alone. Destined. Destiny. She hated that fucking word. The used car salesman angel had best not use that word the next time he showed up and she KNEW he would be back.

John sipped his coffee at the counter. He'd walked right past the booth he normally took so that Liz could join him on her break. Deliberate, possibly but more of an unconscious effort to guide things back to the way they were. Liz slid his breakfast in front of him but didn't linger. Well, maybe the point was made. This wasn't something they should do. There were enough wagging tongues in this town. Maybe they had been a little blinder to it before their night together. Maybe other people had seen something they hadn't. Maybe other people were just making it up to make their lives seen a little more exciting. Almost all wagging tongues ate at the diner or knew someone who did. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

So maybe he could risk a little conversation. She cleaned up after the old lady who stopped in to attempt toast every day. The shaky hands inevitably got it all over the counter before she was done. "I had a lot of dirty dishes this morning. Did you stop over?"

"Made too much dinner. I'm used to you eating the leftovers." She shrugged as she swept the bits of toast into her hand with a rag. "Wanted to talk to you but you were three sheets to the wind. I figured I'd leave you to it."

John nodded to his plate of eggs and bacon. "Must have been pretty good. There wasn't any left."

"Good." Liz took the compliment and nodded to the guys who walked in to the booth across the way. "I'll remember that."

When he set his napkin down, it was just centimeters from where her hand rested on the counter. He hadn't meant for that to mean anything but the air had become heavy all of a sudden. He watched her swallow down a lump before she lifted her eyes to his and smiled. It was a wan smile and not the kind he liked to see on her face. Nervous and unsure. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands together over his half-eaten mess. His appetite was gone now. "You think we could… really get over it this time? If we both put our minds to it?"

Liz rounded the counter and leaned on the stool next to his. Her smile was back. The one she'd had at the kitchen table the morning after. It made his crotch tight and that was just the opposite of the arrangement he'd just suggested. "I'd like that. I miss my friend."

"Me too." He kissed her forehead and got up from the counter. "It's spaghetti night."

"Is it?" She smiled and nodded. "Maybe you can help me with my latest dilemma."

"What's that?"

She made a face as she found the words for it. "Thinking about taking my maiden name back."

"That's a heavy discussion. Goes great with spaghetti."

"I'll see you later."

"With spaghetti."

"Yes! With spaghetti! Go to work." Liz shooed him out the door before attending to her booth. Both heads were bent over the menus. She waved at John through the window, who mouthed 'spaghetti' again. She gave him a thumbs up and poised ready to take an order. "What can I get you young men?"

"Coffee times two." Motioned one as he continued to study the menu.

"I'll have the special AND your phone number." The other grinned. She recognized him as the sleaze ball who had offered her a ride the afternoon before. She fixed him with a stare but didn't respond. It was best not to encourage the trolls.

"I apologize for my brother." The other one offered. He was the fellow from the drugstore. "I'll have oatmeal if you have it."

"We have grits." She saw the face he made. "Carter doesn't advertise but he can do poached eggs on wheat toast."

"That'd be great."

"Okay. That's two coffees, poached eggs on toast and the special for the douche." Liz turned and walked away. Carter fussed about making the poached eggs. He'd only agreed to eat the meal itself if a customer ordered it. It wasn't on the menu but it was on his doctor's order. Liz suggested it to finicky customers whenever she could.

She brought the coffee around and chatted for a minute with the taller of the two while the other sulked into his cup. The taller one had been a law student and was facing the same dilemma she was. She loved science but was kind of over it. He suggested looking at her other skill sets. Which is what she'd told John not long ago. It took her a minute to realize she'd ducked her head when she admitted that her 'friend' had suggested she take her own advice on the subject. He'd nodded to his companion. "See, she's taken."

She waved at them when they left. She was pleased with her tip. Liz went to the bathroom and sighed heavily and the white expanse of panty liner. Her period was late. That was just awesome. There was a heavy discussion to go with spaghetti. Guess what, John?! We're having a baby from our ill-advised night of… just awesome fucking. Liz banged her head on the bathroom stall wall.

Back at the drugstore, she found the pregnancy tests. All of them indicated that it was probably just on the side of early for her to take a test. Still, she liked to be prepared. She'd wait a few days. Why couldn't her life be easy? She just wanted to serve coffee and live without complications. She needed Maria but knew that Maria couldn't have helped even if she weren't broken.

On a whim, as she sat in the drugstore bathroom waving the first test in front of her face, she called Jesse. He didn't seem surprised to hear from her. He took it in stride, the way he'd taken Isabel's rapid departure. He had the papers prepared when he prepared his own. "It's been over a year."

"I know. I've been wandering. Staying still for the moment. I don't know if Kyle knows where I am but…"

"I won't volunteer the information."

"I'm in Kansas. Been here for… 10 months total."

"Okay. As soon as we pass the year mark, I'll push the paperwork over to a Kansas lawyer on your behalf…" He breathed on the line for a while. "Do you want your name back?"

"I think so."

"There are… officials who might be able to find you."

"Let them. I haven't had those abilities since he left."

"How do you know?"

"I've had a couple of those high stress situations where those… skills come in handy. They've failed me. I've been lucky to have made friends with more traditional skills."

"Be careful, Liz."

"How are you holding up?" Liz asked as the negative result showed on her test.

"Better than you but I think that's subjective. All I know is that you keep moving, Liz. What are you doing for work?"

"Waitressing." She smiled to herself.

"You're not going back to school?"

"Lost my taste for it. I've got to go. I'm feeding a friend tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you have a friend, Liz. Keep in touch?"

"If I think about it." She hung up the phone. She tossed it and the pregnancy test into the trashcan.