I can feel her eyes on my as I enter the courtroom. Obviously, she hadn't been expecting me. I let my feet go on automatic, and I look down at the floor. The carpet is an interesting pukey-green color.
The bailiff is a large, red man. Red hair, reddish skin, and reddish-brown eyes. He stares me down condescendingly. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" I clear my throat, which feels like it is closing up. "I do."
I glance at her as I make my way to the witness seat. Her face is ashen, and her green eyes and filled with something I do not care to read. Her lawyer stands up, looking confident in a pinstriped black and white suit. He paces in front of me, cracking his knuckles. "Mr. Ford: did you ever at any time on the island witness Ms. Austen attempt to harm another person?" Her eyes flash dangerously. I stare ahead at her lawyer. "No." That is a lie. But if she's going to jail, it's not going to be because I didn't try to keep her out.
"Did she ever steal anything of importance form anyone?" I feel her anger coming off in waves. She'll never talk to me again. "No." Another lie. As usual, they slide off my tongue like silk. "Was she always honest, helpful, and kind to you?" I force myself to look her in the eyes. I can feel that she wants me to stop, but I can't. Not now; it's too late. I have to finish what I've started. "Yes." Um, no. "No further questions, your honor." The judge, who is small and apparently blonde, slams her mallet down. "Witness dismissed." As I make my way out of the door, I look straight ahead. I've done my part, and tried to help. Even if I lied in court.
Outside, it is dry and cold. The suit I am in is stiff and not very warm. I pull out a Marlboro and light up, taking a drag. Lately this hasn't done the trick. I always feel the need to smoke when I'm thinking about her. The cigarette tastes bitter in my mouth, and the smoke makes me edgy. I throw the thing to the ground and crush it with the heel of my shoe. "You really need to stop smoking, James."
"Kate?" She looks stunning, in a navy blue suit set. I can tell she's uncomfortable in it, and it makes me uncomfortable to see her in anything but her cargos and her tank tops. Not to mention her borrowed hiking boots. She smiles at me, and stares at me through her eyelashes. She's infuriating me, because she knows I can't resist being near her, and she's using it to her advantage. "What do you want?" Her smile disappears, and she goes serious. "Why did you lie, James?" Woo boy, I'm in trouble now. She's not happy. I can't answer her. I suddenly get the urge to light up again, but I don't. "Jack didn't lie." This is too much. Jack? Honestly, who is she to compare?
"I don't care what the hell Jack did, Kate. I'm trying to keep you out of jail." She's angry again. It's extraordinary how much power I can have by lying, which is something I always do. "I can fight my own battles." I allow her a non-committal noise. "You keep tellin' yourself that, Freckles. Should get you through your life sentence." She glares at me and takes a step forward. "You don't really care. You only came because you heard Jack had been a witness." What? Where'd she get that from? "No."
She doesn't believe me. "Then why did you come here?" She's making this too hard. If it's a straight answer she wants, it's a straight answer she'll get. " 'Cause I care that you could spend your entire life in jail." She suddenly loses her fury and becomes small and scared. "As opposed to what? What do I have waiting for me, James? Nothing." She wanted to go to jail. The reality sinks in like a lead weight. She's going to cry, I can see it in her face. She turns away. "Kate…" I step towards her and do the only thing any self-respecting man would do. I hug her.
(("Welcome to the real world
She said to me condescendingly
Take a seat, take your life
Plot it out in black and white
Well I never lived the dreams of the prom king's
And the drama queens
I'd like to think the best of me
Is still hiding up my sleeve
They love to tell you stay inside the lines
But something's better on the other side.
© John Mayer, No Such Thing))
I think I cried for a good ten minutes before I could talk again. I'm getting his suit wet, but I don't think he cares. He holds me close to him and waits for me to make sense. Once I can think clearly, I am embarrassed. Breaking down like that isn't something I do very often, but in front of him it was a disaster. He looks down at me, and the expression on his face is enough to make me want to cry again. I try to straighten his collar, but he gently takes my hands in his, and says, "Tell me everything." So we begin to walk. I know my lawyer is going to kill me, and that people will probably be looking for me, but somehow I don't mind.
I tell him everything that he's missed, leaving Aaron for last. How can I explain to him that I'm harboring a baby that isn't mine? And that Jack thinks the baby's his? When I tell him, the expression on his face barely changes. It's when I tell him about Jack that he looks confused. "Where does he think I am?" He asks, looking concerned. I realize he cleans up nicely. His hair is shorter, but not too short, and he looks very nice. I hadn't looked closely, but he seems like a totally different person than he was. "I don't know." Which is the truth. I have no idea where Jack thinks he is.
We walk a little while longer, in the cold, sharp air. The sidewalk here is empty of crowds, because it is mid-morning, and we are near the park. Soon, people will arrive, but for now it's eerily silent. Finally, I realize I'm cold. The three-quarter sleeves of my suit don't offer much comfort, but I want this to last forever. Even in silence, I understand Sawyer. I may call him James out loud, but in my head, he will always be Sawyer. So I don't say anything. Unfortunately, he notices the goosebumps on my arms and suggests we take a taxi. "To where?" I ask him. He shrugs. I suddenly have a brilliant idea- "Do you want to see where I live?" He smiles, holding his hand up for a taxi driver. "I'd like that," he answers. And I know he means it.
(It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want
© Maroon 5, She will be Loved)
The cab smells like licorice and tobacco. The backseat is small enough that Kate and I are squeezed next to each other, with little breathing space. She looks excited, her cheeks flushed with the cold, and her hair blowing around despite the tight bun she has it in. She's opened a window, but in a few moments, she closes it. The ride will be another half an hour, I decide. I know the area she lives in, and I know where we are now. I lean back and try to relax. Even after months of being back in a car, the movement still disconcerts me. The music playing is a sort of rap-like Muzak, which is played soft enough that it's only relatively annoying. For the remainder of the ride, we listen to the cabbie talk about his son, who is a pilot. He recognizes Kate from the Oceanic Six, but not me. I don't look the same, I guess. Every once in a while Kate or me will give a nod, attempting to look interested, but I know both of us could care less.
We stop outside of a blue-ish house, surrounded by shrubbery and with an outdoor swing. Outside, it's colder than before, and the sun is beginning to set. The lights are on in the house. I glance over at Kate, wondering who would be there. As if she can read my mind, she says, "The nanny. Marisa." She unlocks the door, and we step into a warm, vanilla-smelling room. The open area connects to what looks like a dining area, the living room, and the kitchen. To the right is a spiral staircase, mahogany, and it leads to a catwalk and rooms, I guess.
The nanny is short and plump. She has light brown hair, bluish eyes, and smiles a little too much. I would have expected her to be a loud person, but instead she whispers, "Welcome home," smiles at me, and leaves, closing the door silently. "She's great," Kate says. "I'm so lucky I found her." I follow her up the stairs and to the right.
The next room is dark. The walls are painted blue, and there is a bookcase in one corner, with stuffed toys and children's books piled upon it. There is a group of used-looking toy trucks and trains in another corner, and a crib in the last one. The only thing I can see is the back of his head, which is thickly covered in blonde hair.
Kate kneels by his head and pulls the blanked up to his shoulders. He turns over and opens huge blue eyes. "Hi, mommy."
I feel something change, when he calls her 'mommy'. Kate picks him up and I feel… a sort of responsibility for him. Like if anyone tires to hurt him, they have to go through me.
He yawns, looks up at me, and says, softly, "Hi, daddy."
((I think we're going somewhere.
We're on to something good here.
Out of mind, out of state.
Trying to keep my head on straight.
I think we're going somewhere.
We're on to something good here.
There's only one thing left to do.
Drop all I have and go with you.
©Reliant K, Pressing On))
I have no idea why Aaron called Sawyer 'daddy', but I take it as a good sign. He looks shell-shocked, but I smile and he smiles back. "Goodnight, Aaron," I whisper. He blinks and gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. I set him down and pull the blankets up. He is almost instantly asleep. I creep out of the room, followed by Sawyer, who closes the door quietly.
He turns toward me. For a moment, we just look at each other. Then, I can suddenly breathe better. It is a few seconds before I realize that I can breathe better because he is kissing me. I am pressed against the wall, but I don't want this to stop. It doesn't last long. He is the one to break it off. "I should go if I want to be home by eleven," he says, quietly. I can't help myself. "No, stay." He gives me a strange look and says, "You sure?"
I lean forward and plant a kiss firmly on his lips. "Positive," I reply.
I can suddenly tell this night is going to be one to remember. He kisses me again, this time, he is the one pushed against the wall. He presses his fingers into my shoulders, and I feel a shiver go up my spine.
((Over you
I'm never over
Over you
Something about you
It's just the way you move
The way you move me
I'm so good at forgetting
And I quit ever game I play
But forgive me, love
I can't turn and walk away
© John Mayer, Back to You))
