Thanks again for all the lovely feedback and reviews on the last chapter! It was especially nice considering that this site has suddenly decided to not provide any stats regarding how many people are actually reading this story. (Any of you other writers experiencing this glitch too?)
This chapter is a little on the short side. Summer is over (sigh) and I returned to school full time last week, which leaves me with less time for writing. I'll continue to update weekly, though, as long as people are still enjoying this!
Chapter 13
Patrick Jane was antsy as hell, had been all morning.
After he had said goodbye to May he had taken a quick walk around town, trying to quell the nervous energy that had been coursing through his body ever since he left her beachfront house. He had maintained his usual collected demeanor throughout his time with her and had done exactly what he planned to do during their visit. His understated but convincing theatrics had secured the follow-up communication session with her that he wanted, just as he had expected, and he knew that when she returned from her work trip in a week or two, they'd meet, perhaps several times if he played it right. The four- or five-figure payoff, for which all this groundwork had been laid, would finally be in his hands.
But instead of that surge of adrenaline and exhilaration he usually experienced at moments like this, he was jumpy and anxious. He felt bad for May and what she was going through, and his usual rationalizations- about how he would be helping her by giving her hope and comfort during a difficult time- weren't assuaging his guilt as they usually did. He had made it through his meeting with her by coasting on autopilot, sure. But when she had told him that they wouldn't be able to meet again until after she got back from her trip, instead of feeling impatient or frustrated by the delay, he felt relieved. He would be able to put off following through with the con for a little while longer.
His relief, however, was soon tempered by the realization that the unease and uncertainty he was feeling about the whole matter would now be prolonged. He might have a couple of weeks to pretend otherwise, but he would still have to make a final decision at some point and he wasn't looking forward to it.
But there was more to his present anxiety than just ambivalence about the con itself- there was Teresa. Keeping this from her, something that he knew she would disapprove of, made him feel guilty as hell, and of course the possibility that she'd find out about his scam with May was weighing on his mind heavily, too. If they were going to have any kind of future together (which he couldn't quite imagine at this point but still wanted), is this what it would be like? Him concealing the full truth from her about what he did for a living? Her being willing to turn a blind eye to it? She was too smart and too principled for him to be able to envision either of those things happening.
He reached his shop by mid-morning and after a few hours and handful of appointments (one of his regular clients and some walk-ins) he had managed to push the whole quandary to the back of his mind. Around one o'clock when he glanced across the street and could see through the café's giant picture windows that their lunch crowd had subsided, he decided to take his usual mid-day break to run over to see her. He entered the coffee shop and could hear voices in the kitchen (presumably Grace and young Wylie), then looked down to see Teresa struggling under the sink behind the counter with a wrench in her hand and an adorable scowl on her face.
"Need a hand down there?"
"Jane?" she gasped in surprise, peeking her head out from under the sink. She shimmied out and stood, grabbing a rag off of the counter and wiping her hands on it. "I didn't even hear you come in," she said on a heavy sigh.
"Obviously, you were pretty focused on what you were doing down there. Everything under control?"
"Oh yeah, just a leaky pipe under the sink- I've got it all tightened up now." She tucked a wayward strand of her slightly disheveled hair behind her ear and smiled widely at him. "I was wondering when you were going to make it over here today."
"Well, it's been busy," he began as he watched her wash her hands and start to prepare his tea in his favorite teal-colored cup. "I had a couple of appointments in the morning and a few drop-ins this afternoon."
"Yeah, you do look a little worn out," she replied in a cheeky tone.
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Well if I look tired it's not so much working too hard, but rather because someone kept me up a little late last night…"
She snorted a small laugh. "Well, at least you probably got a few more hours of sleep after someone else scurried off to work at seven," she replied with a smirk.
"I can't deny that, my dear," he replied sheepishly. He noted the softening of her features at his use of the little term of endearment; she looked slightly taken aback but pleased at the same time. "So what's your plan for the rest of the day?" he asked.
"Actually, I am pretty beat…and seeing as I didn't actually make it home last night- or this morning- I think a hot shower and a night of bad TV are definitely in order."
"Hmm, would you like some company?" he asked.
"For which part?" she fired back, her eyes twinkling.
"Whichever part you're offering," he replied smoothly
Teresa chuckled. "How about dinner? I'm not much of a gourmet like Sam and Pete, but I can order up a mean pizza."
"Sounds perfect," he answered softly.
"Good," she responded as she placed his tea on the counter in front of him. Her smile faded slightly and she took a deep breath before continuing. "So… I met a friend of yours today."
"Really, who's that?" he asked before taking his first sip from the cup.
"Erica, from the pub down the street."
"Erica Flynn?" Oh shit. He swallowed the scalding tea in his mouth to avoid responding right away.
"Yeah, she seemed to be going out of her way to make some kind of point by stopping by and introducing herself…" Teresa let her voice trail off and raised her eyebrows expectantly.
Jane shrugged lightly in response. Well, this didn't seem too alarming, he thought. If Erica had said something truly catastrophic, Teresa would have mentioned it right off the bat.
"It was just a little strange that's all," she continued after a moment's pause. "Any idea of what that might have been about?"
Jane smiled at her reassuringly. "Teresa, are you asking me if something happened between me and Erica?"
"No," she replied unconvincingly. "I mean if it had, I would understand. It's not like you and I have been together all that long." She laughed nervously before adding hastily, "Not that we're together exactly…"
Jane did his best to hide his amusement at her flustered response, but he also felt the immediate desire to put her mind at ease. He leaned in and gazed at her intently.
"Teresa, I barely know the woman. I've talked to her a grand total of two times, and yes, I may have flirted with her a bit the first time she and I met. But, it was never going to amount to anything; it couldn't have."
"Why couldn't it?" she looked at him quizzically.
"Well, if you must know, the day I met her was the same afternoon I ran into you and Grace over at the pub. And after our little conversation that day, I think it's fair to say I was too far gone to pay much attention to any other woman, least of all Erica Flynn."
Teresa looked down almost shyly for a second then returned her eyes towards his with her usual confidence. "Well, that's good to know," she replied with a smirk.
He held her gaze for a beat, grinning goofily. The way she alternated between her tough cookie exterior and this self-conscious side was absolutely endearing to him. She noticed the amused glint in his eye and swatted him on the arm.
"Go sit on your couch and drink your tea! I've got work to do." she said dryly, shooing him in the direction of the leather sofa in the corner. As he started to make his way over to his favorite spot, he noted with satisfaction the telltale blush just starting to rise over her cheeks.
xxxxxx
The late afternoon sun was beginning to sneak behind the row of pines next to the Airstream. Jane had decided to close up a little early and head back to the campground for a short respite before meeting Teresa later that evening. Making his way down the gravel driveway he noticed Pete in front of the cottage, unloading firewood from the back of his truck and stacking it neatly alongside the house.
"Ah, just in time, Paddy. I can put you to work!" Pete called out as Jane got closer. He motioned towards an extra pair of work gloves on the front step of the porch, and Jane smiled in acquiescence, taking off his suit coat and placing it on a nearby lawn chair.
"Well, I guess I oughtta do a little to earn my keep around here," he responded with a smile as he rolled up his shirtsleeves jauntily and grabbed the gloves.
"Ah, you know that's not necessary. I'd just appreciate the help is all, especially with this old back of mine acting up lately." He returned Jane's grin and the two men worked quietly side by side for a minute.
"So you're home earlier than usual. Business goin' okay?"
"Yeah," Jane shrugged, "you know how it is."
"Well, actually, Patrick, no I don't. That's why I asked," Pete replied a little gruffly. "You don't talk about it much these days."
Jane let out a deep sigh. "I suppose it's worked out pretty much as I expected it would," he shrugged indifferently. "I'm still seeing a lot of Kristina Frye's old clients; been luring in the curious townies and tourists for their tarot card and palm readings."
"Okay," Pete nodded slowly. He stopped working and leaned his elbow onto the side of truck bed. "So, what's the problem?"
Jane considered this for a moment. His old friend knew him well enough to see that something was wrong, and if there were anyone who'd understand what he was grappling with and whose advice he'd want, Pete would be the person.
Jane walked over to where Pete was standing and sat down on the truck's open tailgate. "I've got this client, a woman named May Nelson. Do you know her?"
"I've heard the name," Pete replied with a nod.
"Yeah, you probably have. Her son died; he drowned just over a year ago…" Jane paused before continuing in a low, strained voice. "And I've got her, Pete… I've got her hooked, and she's right there in the palm of my hand, just waiting to be taken."
"And?" Pete fixed his eyes on his young friend.
"And, I don't know if I can follow through with it. I don't know if I want to." Jane tore off the gloves and threw them down in the bed of the truck in disgust. "Jesus, Pete, what the hell is wrong with me?"
"Why do you think something's wrong with you?"
"You know I've met with the woman twice, and I still haven't even taken a single dollar from her! God, if my old man could see me right now…" Jane laughed bitterly. "I don't know if he'd be smacking me upside the head or laughing his ass off."
"Probably both," Pete replied wryly.
"Alex Jane never backed out of anything in his life. One of the many lessons he imparted to me over the years- that you can't just back down when it's morally convenient or when you don't have the guts."
"Well, that was easy for him to say- that father of yours had a stone cold heart. But he saw something in you right away, when you were just a kid starting to work with him, something about you that made you different from him."
"That I was weak," Jane turned towards Pete.
"No. No, just the opposite actually; that you were smart and strong, that you weren't going to roll over and do his bidding blindly for the rest of your life. And I watched him, for years, trying to drill that spirit out of you and he couldn't." Pete paused before adding solemnly, "You are not your father, Patrick."
"I know that," Jane replied swiftly and dismissively.
"Really? Because from the way you're talking, it's like you seem to think you're destined to live a life just like his - as if you don't have any choice in the matter."
"I know I have a choice; I've always known that," Jane began defensively. "I left the carnie life, remember, Pete? I broke out on my own…"
"Yeah, and you just traded one set of marks and cons for another. How is that breaking free of anything?"
Jane let out a sigh of frustration and dug one of his dangling feet into the ground, kicking up red dust and gravel.
Pete sat down next to his younger friend and looked over at him, a sympathetic but serious look in his eyes. "You remember what I told you when you first got here? That you could do a lot more with your life than what you've been doin'. Well, I meant that… and I'm happy to see that maybe you're starting to figure it out for yourself."
Jane glanced over at Pete in bemusement.
"All these questions, these doubts you're having about closing the deal with this May person- I reckon that's a sign you're ready for a change. Not to mention you sound bored as hell with the other stuff you've been doin'… reading palms and doing the same old cold readings day after day? You really want to be doing that for the rest of your life?"
Jane chuckled lightly, but the truth was he'd never given a moment's thought to the future. He always lived in the present, engrossed in whatever his current scheme was, giving little thought to what lay ahead. Except until recently, of course, when he thought of Lisbon and the idea of having her in his life somehow. As if reading his mind, Pete spoke again.
"What about that pretty little brunette of yours, Teresa? Where does she fit into all of this?"
"I have no idea, Pete," Jane answered. "I mean, I'm crazy about her…"
"Well, that's pretty obvious," Pete interjected with a grin. "Sam and I saw that for ourselves the other night."
"Yeah, but, she thinks I'm just some two-bit hustler, taking people for twenty dollar rides. She might be able to accept that, but- she wouldn't want anything to do with me if she knew what I was really capable of."
Pete gave him a knowing look. "Sounds like even more reason for you to rethink things a bit, then, wouldn't you say?"
Jane exhaled on a laugh and shook his head at the surreal nature of the conversation the two of them were having. His oldest friend in the world, a dyed in the wool ex-carnie like himself, was sitting here trying to convince him to go straight. It was absolutely absurd, and yet, he realized suddenly, doing so would open up any number possibilities- including a life with Teresa in it, one without the secrecy and guilt that was currently threatening to mar their chances.
"God, Pete, what would I even do with myself?" he looked back at his friend, genuinely baffled by the prospect.
Pete chuckled a bit and patted Jane on the shoulder. "You're a smart kid, Paddy. I think you'd figure something out."
