Disclaimer: Same as usual: I don't own Jericho or any of its' characters. CBS has that honor. But Elizabeth and her friends are all mine.
A/N: I have not posted a new chapter in nearly seven months, for several reasons. I strongly suggest you read/reread the other chapters first so you understand how this one begins. I want to thank Skyrose and Midnight, from JFF, for all of their hardwork. Their phone calls and emails really helped refine this chapter. I also would love to hear your feedback...good or bad. It's the only I can improve my writing and please my readers.
Jake had followed Elizabeth into her bedroom, but she adamantly refused to discuss the death of her friends any further. He finally gave up and headed back to his own room. She knew he was worried about her and, in all honesty, he had a right to be. But she needed to deal with this her way. For now, that meant keeping him in the dark about the things she went through when the accident happened. Only when she was ready would she tell him everything. After he left, she pulled out the rarely looked at photo album from the bottom drawer of her desk, curled up on the papasan chair under a blanket, and allowed the memories of times past to keep her awake until the sun was just coming up on the horizon.
She had washed up, dressed, and was in the kitchen before Dad; a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him when he joined her fifteen minutes later. Elizabeth was glad when their hour turned into an hour and a half and Jake had yet to make an appearance; she didn't want the reminder that sooner or later she would have to talk to him about Lauren and Sara.
Johnston had been surprised by the sudden transformation of Elizabeth. She was extremely animated and talkative. It was as if things had gone back to normal and she was no longer the reserved kid she had become over the last few months. Gail joined them at 6:30. After talking for over an hour, and promising Mom she'd take it easy on her leg, Elizabeth left the house for the day.
She walked the three blocks to the two-story house on the corner and knocked on the door. Normally she was welcome to walk right in, but considering how high-strung everyone was she figured it was better to announce herself. She had not planned on coming here today; her original plan was to meet Heather at the elementary school after her staff meeting, then go to her house from there. But, after the events of last night, she decided she needed to make a stop at the Caseys' first.
The door opened to reveal a slender brunette woman. "Oh. Good morning, Elizabeth. How are you?"
"Good morning, Mrs. Casey." Elizabeth smiled then said, "I'm okay. How are you?"
"Late," Joanne Casey said, checking her watch. "Please, come inside while I finish getting ready." Elizabeth stepped into the house, closing the door behind her. Mrs. Casey picked her earrings off of the hall entry table and put them on as she looked towards Elizabeth.
"I know Jordan's grounded, but would it be okay if I see him for a few minutes? I need to talk to him about something," Elizabeth asked, "I'll be quick about it since you're leaving soon."
"Tell you what. I'll let you stay until I get back from my meeting with the school board if you promise to keep him from leaving the house again," Mrs. Casey offered as she grabbed her jacket out of the coat closet and put it on. "Go ahead and help yourself to whatever you'd like from the kitchen. Jordan's in his room; probably still asleep." She grabbed her purse off of the table and opened the door. Before she left, she turned to face Elizabeth again. "Please try to keep him out of trouble; you're really the only one he listens to."
Elizabeth promised, bid her goodbye, and waited until she left before she headed up the stairs. She made her way to the room at the end of the hall, quietly pushed the door open, and stepped inside. His mother had been right. Jordan was asleep; his comforter only covering everything below his waist. She smiled at the scene before her. The weight training required for all varsity baseball players had done Jordan well. She quietly shut the door, removed her jacket, hanging it over his desk chair, and toed off her shoes. She walked over to the bed and climbed under the covers. Leaning over, she kissed him, letting her lips linger on his for awhile, then snuggled down against him, her head on his shoulder. His arms immediately came around her, one coming to rest on her hip.
"I'm not supposed to have any visitors," Jordan mumbled, half asleep, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender in her hair.
"Your mom's letting me stay."
"For how long?" he asked.
"'Til she gets back from her meeting," she told him, shivering involuntarily as his fingers moved down her leg.
His fingers stopped their dance on her thigh and he finally opened his eyes. Grinning, he said, "She left us alone?"
"She trusts us," Elizabeth told him. Although it wouldn't surprise her if Jordan's parents suspected they were more than friends, Joanne Casey did not seem to have any worries about anything serious happening in Jordan's bedroom. If she had, she certainly would not have left Elizabeth and Jordan alone in the house on numerous previous occasions. If either Mr. or Mrs. Casey were to walk into the room this very moment, they wouldn't be shocked that Elizabeth was in Jordan's bed. She and Jordan had been falling asleep in each other's arms for three years. It was one of the ways they were able to deal with their PTSD. They understood each other and were able to offer one another a level of comfort that no one else-not their parents, the counselors they saw, or the other survivors of the accident-could.
"Or maybe she just wanted someone to keep an eye on you. She told me to keep you from leaving the house. Seems you've been a bad boy…" Her tone was teasing before she was interrupted.
"Well, I know one way you could keep me from leaving," he said, tilting her face up with his hand so he could kiss her.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm too tired to make-out," she replied once she broke away from the kiss moments later. "I just want to lay here with you, nap maybe."
"I'm not disappointed. As long as I'm with you, it doesn't matter what we do." He pulled her closer. They lay there for a few minutes in complete silence. He thought she might have fallen asleep, but the sound of her breathing told him differently. "So, why are you so tired?"
"Jake caught me sneaking out last night. We talked for a little bit and he ended up asking about Lauren and Sara. And, well, you know how it goes from there."
He nodded. "Yeah, flashbacks."
"You know, after not having one for so long I'd hoped they were gone for good," she admitted. "Kinda stupid of me, huh?"
"No, we've all had times when we've hoped that, but I don't think they'll ever go away completely. The triggers are always gonna be out there."
"Yeah, you're right. I just wish mine weren't as bad as they are. I mean, yours are bad but…"
"Yours are worse," he finished for her. She nodded in agreement.
"I wish that for you, too. But, I don't see how they could be anything other than that severe. You were in there longer than the rest of us. You watched them…die. The rest of us were outside in the rain listening to their screams, but you…" he trailed off when she shuddered. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
She shook her head, interrupting him, "No it's okay. I don't mind talking about it with you, and I can't always avoid talking about it with everyone else either." She paused for a moment. "Although, I am trying to put off telling Jake as long as I can," she admitted.
"He still doesn't know all the details?"
"Nope," she confirmed, scooting up so her head rested on the pillow next to his.
"I still don't know how you've managed to keep it from him all this time. I remember how you used to tell him everything when we were little. Even when it was something that you'd get in trouble for." His hand moved underneath the hem of her shirt, to her lower back, slowly moving its way up.
"Yeah, still not sure how I managed to convince him that nightmare in San Diego was nothing." She shrugged. "I learned how to lie and be secretive from watching him, I guess." She gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand away from the hooks of her bra. While she would've loved to make the most of their private time, she knew it was wiser not to. It would be next to impossible for either of them to exercise the control needed. "He hasn't seen the scar yet."
"He doesn't even know about it, does he?" he asked, his finger tracing along the still slightly raised scar just below her bra line before withdrawing his hand. "Or did you finally tell him that your broken arm wasn't your only injury?"
"No."
"Hey, speaking of scars… can I see the one on your leg?"
Elizabeth put her hand on his chest, where she could feel his strong steady heartbeat. "Not now. Maybe after the stitches come out," she told him. She raised her eyebrow and grinned before adding, "If you're lucky, that is."
Jordan smiled back at her; they both knew that sooner or later he'd be seeing a lot more than just her thigh. Contented for now, his hand moved back under her shirt, leaving it to rest on the warm skin just above the waistband of her low-waist jeans.
"So, what's going on with your dad?" Elizabeth asked. Usually a happy presence throughout town, Greg Casey had made himself scarce in the days since the bombs. Even at the cookout the other night, Elizabeth had noticed that he wasn't being his usual social self; he'd spent the entire evening glued to his seat next to his wife. It even seemed like Joanne was having a hard time getting him to talk. Elizabeth had asked Jordan about it, but he clearly had not been up to discussing it around the others.
Jordan sighed. "I think he's going to start drinking again." 'And it terrifies the hell out of me.'
Elizabeth sat up in bed. "What? Why?"
Greg had been sober for almost three years, and, although she knew there was always a chance he would return to the bottle, she always thought he would be sober for the rest of his life. It had been his decision, after all, to go cold turkey.
Elizabeth was there that evening, working on a school project with Jordan, when Greg had come home drunk and angry. Joanne simply greeted him, but he started yelling at her throwing things at the wall. He was so drunk that he didn't even notice the kids in the room. He had taken two steps closer to his wife, with his arm raised ready to hit her, when thirteen year old Jordan intervened. He'd tried to pull his father away from Joanne while pleading with him to stop. One look at his son's tear-streaked face, and the fear in his eyes, gave Greg the wake-up call he desperately needed. He headed upstairs alone, lost in thought, eventually passing out. He never picked up a bottle again.
Jordan rolled over onto his back, put his hands behind his head and looked up at her. "Because of what happened last week and the bomb in Denver. Now they're all dead." Jordan sighed again and got out of bed. He picked up a pair of sweatpants from the floor and pulled them on over his boxers. He then walked over to the window and turned back to face Elizabeth, grateful for the fact that she was being patient. She knew he wasn't close to any of his extended family, but still it was hard for him to talk about it. He also knew that she wouldn't be offended if he decided to end the conversation right now. He'd wanted to tell her about the phone call a few nights before the bombs went off, but he never really had the chance. They had always been with their friends; and then the world went to hell. The only time they had really been alone together was during their walk the other night, but he hadn't wanted to be the one to ruin their happy conversation. He leaned back against the wall and put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.
It was rare for him to talk about his family, and even rarer for Jordan to bring them up in conversation. She had a feeling since a few days before the bombs that he wanted to tell her something away from the others, but they had never been left alone long enough for him to do so. She probably could have asked him about it the other night during their walk but she hadn't wanted to be the one to ruin the upbeat, good spirited conversation they were having. Her eyes followed him around the room as he pulled on his pants and then headed to the window. She didn't say anything; instead, she was patient and gave him the time he needed.
"Two nights before the bombs my uncle called and said he wanted to come visit with my cousins and grandparents." He took a deep breath and looked out the window. "Dad told him no. They argued and Dad finally hung up the phone. He was mad and confused about the unexpected phone call- I mean, my dad hasn't talked to any of them in three years, not since the last time they called to borrow money - but you could tell he wasn't even considering taking a drink. But then when the bomb went off…" he trailed off and shook his head. "They all died in the blast; they had to, right? And Dad blames himself. He regrets not letting them come visit." Jordan hung his head and stared at his bare feet.
Elizabeth got up and walked over to him, stopping when there were a few inches of space between them. He shifted his body a little bit but didn't look at her. She reached out and put her hand on his bare chest. "Your dad did the right thing, and he had good reason to assume Jason was only calling to borrow money. Knowing your uncle, he probably would have come to visit and left with some of your mom's jewelry to pawn…again. I know it's not—"
"The thing is, though, it's not bothering me like it should. I should be upset that they're dead, but I'm not. I'm just worried about my dad." Jordan lifted his head and looked at her, tears in his eyes. "I don't want him to start drinking again."
"I don't either, but if he does, we'll deal with it together." She moved closer to him. "Okay?"
He gazed into her eyes for a few moments. "What kind of person doesn't care when their family dies?"
"A person whose family hurt them in one way or another." She let her hand drop down to his hip. "Just because you're not upset now, doesn't mean you never will be. Right now, the hurt you feel is outweighing the love."
"Love? I'm not sure I'd—"
"Yes, love. They're family, even when you hate them, you're still going to love them. They stole from you and your parents, they did mean things; and you've been waiting a long time for an apology and never got one. That's why you're still too angry to be sad."
He hung his head again as a solitary tear rolled down his cheek. He sniffled, and then cleared his throat. "They caused Dad to drink last time. Now they're dead and they're going to cause him to do it again."
She took another step forward, her right foot was between both of his and she could feel the heat radiating off his body. She reached up, letting her thumb wipe his cheek, then he started to cry. "Let it out, Jord. It's okay."
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. He resisted at first, then finally took his hands out of his pockets and hugged her back. He buried his face in her neck, grateful that he could talk to her about serious matters, even cry, and she never thought any less of him; she never thought he was weak. She held on to him for a few minutes, then released him when she heard him catching his breath. "I'll give you a few minutes, 'kay? I'll meet you downstairs."
Jake ambled into the kitchen and collapsed tiredly into a chair, resting his face on the table like he had when he was a child. Gail and Johnston gave each other curious looks across the table. Jake looked terrible, like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He still looked pissed about being stonewalled yesterday. Gail got up, took a mug out of the cabinet, and filled it with some coffee. Sitting back down, she put the mug in his hand. Jake raised his head, glanced at the mug, mumbled a thank you, and took a sip.
"Jake, honey, you look—" Gail started to say.
"Exhausted? Pissed? Concerned? Worried?" Jake interrupted. "Take your pick, Mom." He knew it came out sounding more abrupt than he intended, but, frankly, he didn't care. He never imagined that coming back home would have him more scared than when he had been hunting down ruthless criminals. His daughter had been in turmoil for years, and he was only just now finding out about it. He didn't know all the details, but he was starting to piece it all together. Now, if he could only corner El—or anybody really—into telling him.
"Jake, son, there's no need—"
"Why didn't you tell me kids died in the accident?" Johnston and Gail looked at each other, then back at Jake. One thing that had not changed over the last five years was Jake's tendency to explode when things were not going his way. "Why didn't you tell me about Lauren and Sara?"
"She told you?" Gail couldn't hide her surprise. "When?"
"Last night after I caught her trying to sneak out again," Jake replied. "She told me, then went to her room. I gave her some time then went to talk to her, but she just blew me off. Is that what her episodes are about, the accident?" Yelling and standing now, he continued: "You never said anyone died. You never said her best friends died!
Gail tried to explain. "Jake, we promised to let her—"
"I don't care what you promised her! She's my daughter and I should've been told about it!"
Johnston tried, unsuccessfully, to bite his tongue. "Now you know what it's like to be your parents."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Johnston, maybe now's not the—" Gail knew exactly where this conversation was headed, and it wasn't good.
"No, Mom, let him say it; he obviously has something he needs to get off his chest." Jake turned his attention to his father. "Well, Dad?"
Gail might come to regret it, but she let them continue.
Johnston stared at the mug in his hand. "All I'm saying is, it would've been nice if you had told us where you were, what you were doing. It's not easy being left out in the dark when it comes to your kids."
Jake was quiet for a moment. "You know I can't talk about my job, Dad, you knew from the beginning I wouldn't be able to." Jake returned to his seat and coffee.
"But it was okay for you to tell Elizabeth?" Johnston asked, looking his oldest son directly in the eyes. He had never approved of Jake telling her things and then asking her to keep quiet about it. He believed that doing so placed a huge burden on her young shoulders. It might even possibly explain why her attitude and behavior had gradually become worse over the years.
"What I tell her is my business," Jake replied. "Not yours."
"It is my business, too, Son. It's your mother's business and Eric's. April's. Even Stanley's." He held up his hand to stop Jake from protesting. "Things were hard enough for her when your brother got married and moved out; then you left for D.C. a few days before 9/11. I don't think she understood the severity of what was happening until she saw the footage of the Pentagon. Even though you called to tell us you were okay, she was scared to death that you were going to get hurt or die."
"She'd probably hate me if she knew I was telling you this, but for some reason she thought you would be here for her birthday. She waited up the entire night before her party for you to come home. When Eric showed up early the next morning he found her asleep by the window. When he woke her up and she realized you hadn't come home…" He trailed off as he thought back to that scene. "She started crying and it took him nearly an hour to get her to stop. And then when you didn't even call her…" Johnston shook his head. "The only reason she got through her party without crying was because of Eric. He and April ended up taking her to their house for the night because she wouldn't let him out of her sight; she was afraid that he was going to leave in the middle of the night, just like you did."
He'd let that sit with Jake for awhile. He hadn't intended on bringing it up, but Jake needed to learn that his actions had lasting consequences on his daughter.
The tension in the room was overwhelming to Jake. He didn't know what to think. He certainly had no idea that his leaving was just as hard, if not harder, on El as it was on him. It was true; he never got the chance to call her on her birthday. He had his boss and South America to blame for that. But, when he did call two days later and talked to her; she seemed to be taking everything in stride.
'I'm sorry I couldn't be there, El. Did you have a good time?" Jake asked as he looked out at Copacabana Beach from his hotel room balcony. He had been in Rio de Janeiro for a week, having flown here after moving into his new apartment. He knew he'd miss her, but he had no idea that it would hurt so much to be so far away. If there had been any possible way to do so, he wouldn't have left until after her eleventh birthday. With any luck, they'd quickly gather enough intel on the drug lord they were tracking, and Jake would be back stateside before Christmas. Even though he wouldn't be heading back to Jericho, he would at least be able to buy a plane ticket for El to come visit him for the second half of her winter break. She could spend Christmas in Jericho and New Years in D.C., with him.
"Yeah, but Lauren couldn't come."
"Why not?" The day he left, the girls had been excited about the upcoming birthday celebration, even though it was still over three weeks away. Their excitement grew larger when they found out that El's birthday was falling on a teacher in-service day. A birthday party and a day off from school made them overjoyed with anticipation.
"She's got chickenpox."
"She has chickenpox," he corrected. "I know you were looking forward to her being there. I'm sorry she couldn't make it."
"It's okay. Mom and Dad said she can come sleep over one night when she gets better. Sara's gonna come too. And April said she's gonna take us shopping and to get a manicure," she told him excitedly.
"A manicure?" 'Seems like yesterday she was in diapers, now she's old enough to get a manicure?'
"Yeah, you know, get our nails painted and stuff." Even being 7,500 miles away from her, he knew she was rolling her eyes at him.
Chuckling, he replied: "Yeah. Well, that sounds fun. Don't spend too much of April's money, though."
"I won't. Grandpa gave me some money to spend."
"He did? How much did he give you?" Jake knew it was way more than was necessary. E. J. spoiled El, that was certain, but then again they all did in their own way. After all, she was the first girl born into the Green family for five generations. He was sure that line of reasoning wasn't acceptable to most people, but it worked for the Greens'.
"Well, he only gave me two twenties, but he put a lot more in my bank account. But, you know, only him and Mom can get it out for me," she explained. "I think there's a lot in there now, like four-hundred somethin'."
Jake smiled at that. 'More like a few thousand, El' "Well, I think you should only take twenty with you on your shopping trip. That's more than enough, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed. "Hey, Jake, dinner's ready. Are you gonna call me tomorrow?"
"I'm going to try, El. I can't promise, but I'll try. Okay?" 'If I could, I'd call you three times a day.'
"Okay. Bye, Jake."
"Bye, El. I—" he was cut off as she hung up and he heard the dial tone, "—love you."
He never did make it back stateside for Christmas. After leaving Brazil, he had spent eleven months in Iraq, then relocated to San Diego. Only then was El able to come visit him. His boss had given him four weeks with no chance of having to travel, so he bought a plane ticket for El and she stayed with him that entire time. They spent most of their time at the beach where Jake taught her how to surf. She was only twelve and Jake was uncomfortable leaving her alone in his apartment, so he had dragged her to a few of his meetings. She sat at his desk watching movies on the portable DVD player he bought her while he spent an hour or two, sometimes more, in a soundproof, windowless room down the hall. He knew she hated having to sit alone in a strange office while he was in his briefing, even if she never vocalized it. He talked to her about it, apologized, and told her that he didn't like that the meetings took away from their time together either.
"She understands why I couldn't be there, Dad. Maybe she even forgives me," Jake finally said. "And, I think I've made up for it. I never missed calling her on her birthday ever again, and I never went more than a few days without talking to her." Exhaustion was taking over again and he rubbed his eyes, trying to rid them of sleep.
"Maybe she does forgive you, Son, maybe she does," Johnston agreed, nodding. "But would she if she knew you had a choice? She—"
Surprised, Jake interrupted. "You told me you supported my decision to leave! Now, suddenly, you don't?"
Johnston sighed. "I did, Jake. I did support you…at the time."
"Why did it change?"
"Because of the girl I raised as my own. Because of the teenager she has become." He sighed again. "After spending almost every single morning of the last four years with her, I've come to know her better than anyone. She's strong; the kid's got guts. I don't have to worry about anyone trying to take advantage of her because she'd kick their ass in a heartbeat. She's bright; I think sometimes too much for her own good. That's why her mouth gets her in trouble. She's got a good heart and she means well, and overall, she loves life. She's a generally happy kid, who, I know without a doubt, is going to do something to make a positive difference in this world.
"But, at the same time, when she's in pain it cripples her. It's rare for her to show anyone that pain, but she's always been like that, I guess. I don't support your decision any more because of everything you've missed: those day-to-day moments that have turned her into an amazingly self-sufficient, strong, beautiful young woman. There's many incredible firsts during early childhood that you were here for, thank God, but there were just as many, perhaps more meaningful ones in the long run, over the last five years that you missed. And, you can't get them back, Jake. When she ran in States this past spring we were all there. April and Eric. Even Stanley gave up working the farm for the day to drive with Bonnie to cheer her on. Elizabeth was happy, having a great time, but I could see in her eyes that something was missing; she wanted you there. When she—"
"Dad—"
"You've listened to me this long, you might as well let me finish." He waited until Jake nodded, then continued. "She broke three school records last year, Jake; records that were set seventeen years ago. You missed all of it, Son, and you can't get any of it back. And, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm disappointed in you, mad at you even, but I'm not. I'm mad at myself for supporting your decision. I should've thought about all the things you'd miss out on. I played a part in keeping you from witnessing milestones in your daughter's life." Johnston stood up and headed out of the room. Before exiting, he said, "I'm sorry, Son."
Stunned, Jake sat back in his chair. He hadn't had such a serious discussion with his father in, well, in forever. He wasn't even sure he ever had before. They had finally come to an understanding. He wondered if his father and Stanley had ever discussed Elizabeth's behavior; they both seemed to share the belief that she was angry that both Jake and Eric had left her. After a few minutes, Jake came out of his silent trance and was surprised to see his mother still sitting there, looking at him.
"You agree with him that I'm a lousy father?"
She covered his hand with hers. "Oh, honey, your father doesn't think that. Neither do I. He just wishes you could've been here."
"I didn't plan on being gone for so long. I wish I could've been here, too." Jake dropped his head back into his hands.
Gail reached out and squeezed one of his hands. "You're not a bad father, Jake. If you were, would Elizabeth look up to you the way she does? She loves her big brother…and, one day, she's going to love you for who you really are, her father. And if your behavior the last few days means anything, I think you want to tell her sometime soon."
A half hour and a shower later, Jordan was fully composed so he headed downstairs. Stepping into the living room, he spotted Elizabeth lying on the couch, asleep. He thought for a moment if he should wake her. He made his decision and walked over to the couch. He kneeled down and, being careful not to touch any part of her, whispered: "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up." Elizabeth shifted slightly, but didn't open her eyes. He blew softly on her ear; an act he thought would surely get her attention. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing. He frowned and then caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Liz, babe, wake up; you fell asleep on me."
She opened her eyes and looked at him, her face taking on a pouting look. "You know, I'm a bit disappointed that I didn't get woken up properly." He looked confused. "You never did watch Sleeping Beauty, did you?"
"I'm a guy, Ninja Turtles and Power Rangers were more my thing."
"If the power ever comes back on, I'm going to make you watch Sleeping Beauty with me. Then you'll understand," she told him. When he didn't lose the confused look, she decided to just explain it to him. "Sleeping Beauty could only wake up when she was kissed by her true love. So, next time you're going to have to do better."
"Next time?" He gave her a sly grin. "Couldn't I try to make up for it now?" He leaned down and kissed her. Within seconds, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and had dragged him onto the couch with her. After pulling apart, Elizabeth looked up at him as he ran his thumb along her lips. He locked his eyes with hers and smiled. "So, uh, how'd I do?"
"Okay." She reached up and brushed an errant lock of damp hair off his forehead as she felt her cheeks flush and tried to slow her racing heartbeat. She smiled as she stared into his emerald eyes.
"Okay?" he asked, as he moved off of Elizabeth to sit up. "Only okay?"
Swinging her legs off of the couch, she sat up and scooted over to fit into Jordan's embrace. "Okay meaning if you ever—" she placed a kiss on his lips, "forget the proper way to wake Sleeping Beauty again—" she kissed him again, "then you better make up for it like you just did." She kissed him once more, then stood up, smoothing out her now-wrinkled shirt. She held her hand out and he accepted it, letting her pull him up. It was too risky to stay on the couch in case Mrs. Casey came home from her meeting. It'd be safer in the kitchen, making breakfast.
After the conversation with his father, Jake headed upstairs. There were too many thoughts running through his mind to go back to bed. Instead, he relied on the cold water of the shower to wake him up. Only partially satisfied with the results; he made his way to the living room, where he found both of his parents, sitting in their respective chairs, reading. Jake leaned against the wall of the room, his eyes darting back and forth between his parents and the view of the street out the window.
"What is it, Jake?" The question came from Johnston, who had set his book down on the arm of the chair and was staring at his son. Gail looked up from her reading.
Jake turned to face them. "Besides the fact that none of you will tell me what's going on with Elizabeth?" he snapped at them. Jake sighed, "Sorry." He then moved to the couch. Sitting, he rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin.
"Jake, honey, what is it?" Gail asked, her book also being set aside.
Jake was quiet for a few moments and then looked up. "You remember the night El was born?" His question was received with confused looks on his parents' faces. Of course, they remembered that night; they had been there for her birth.
Johnston decided to humor his son. "Yeah, it is kind of hard to forget 20 hours of labor, your terrified face, and Elizabeth's first cries. As loud as she was, we should've known then she'd like to run off at the mouth."
"Yeah, and I remember how you couldn't take your eyes off of her and wouldn't let anyone else hold her," Gail added.
"She had you wrapped around her finger from second one," Eric said, stepping into the room. He had stopped by to talk to Jake and Johnston. "Who would've thought that a newborn would be the one to get you back on the right track, especially after Mom, Dad, Grandpa, even Emily, tried."
Jake looked pained at Eric's last comment. He had worked so hard to change his life, but no one seemed to be able to forget the stupid things he'd done as a punk kid.
"Relax, Jake, it's a joke." Eric sat down next to him on the couch. Jake decided to brush it off.
"Remember what we agreed that night? That when the time was right, we'd tell her the truth?" They all nodded. "I want to tell her, not this very second, but sometime soon. I mean, I've always wanted to tell her, but it's never felt right. Ever since last Christmas, I've felt like I need to tell her. I've kept enough secrets the last five years, I don't want to keep this one any longer. I can't keep this one any longer. It's making me crazy, especially after the last few days. There have been so many moments when I've had to remind myself that I'm supposed to be the 'big brother', not a concerned father."
"When are you thinking about telling her?" Johnston asked.
"I don't know." Jake shook his head. "I don't know when the right time will be."
"There's never going to be a 'right time', Jake," Eric noted, worried about how Elizabeth would react to the news. She was already a loose cannon, she might explode when she found out.
"Yeah," Jake agreed, softly. "But, I think I know a way it might make it easier for her to take it."
"How?" Gail inquired.
"I told you my first day back that I was here for good and I meant it. The attacks haven't changed my mind, instead it's confirmed that I want to be here." Jake made eye contact with each member of his family. "I'm going to look at some houses today and I want El to move in with me."
"Elizabeth, I hope he didn't ask you to make him breakfast," Joanne Casey said, stepping into the dining room followed by Heather. She knew her son was fully capable of cooking for himself, but he had a tendency to get lazy when someone else was around to do it for him. Elizabeth and Jordan were sitting at the table; remnants of toast, omelets and fresh cantaloupe pieces on the plates in front of them. Having decided to forgo breakfast this morning at her own home, Elizabeth had joined Jordan in making his.
"Hey, Heather," Elizabeth greeted cheerfully as she set down her glass of orange juice, then answered Mrs. Casey. "No, Ma'am. We made it together." Picking up a plate of the fruit, she continued, "There's extra. Want some?"
"That's okay. You kids finish it up if you want it." Joanne and Heather pulled out the two other chairs and sat down.
"I don't know about Jordan but I'm all done," Elizabeth replied. She glanced at Jordan and gave him a smile that Heather and Joanne thought was friendly but Jordan knew was far from innocent. He knew she was thinking about the other times they had made breakfast together. Several times during the past summer, both the Caseys' and the Greens' had gone out of town during the same weekends, leaving the teenagers in Jericho.
Both teens had stayed home by themselves, but Eric and April had checked in on Elizabeth several times throughout the day. Elizabeth had made sure she was in the house when Eric came to check on her on his way home from the office every night but would head to Jordan's in the middle of the night. They'd watch movies all night, then have an early breakfast together. Elizabeth would be home in time for April's morning check in. Both teens had known there would be serious consequences if Jimmy, Bill, or anyone else had caught Elizabeth roaming the streets at night, but it had been a risk they were willing to take. "So, Heather, what are you doing here?"
Taking the glass of orange juice Elizabeth had poured for her, Heather answered. "Joanne and I were talking after the meeting and I told her you're supposed to be coming over today. She told me you were here and invited me over." She took a drink then set her glass down.
Noticing that Jordan had done nothing more than glance at Heather before returning his attention to his plate, Elizabeth brought her foot into deliberate contact with his shin. He jumped a little in his seat at the contact then looked at her, glaring. She nodded her head in Heather's direction, urging him to do what they had discussed while they made breakfast.
He turned his attention to Heather, making his eyes meet hers. "Ms. Lisinski, I'm sorry about the other day in the mine. Things were crazy enough, I shouldn't have made it more difficult for you." He had already apologized to Eric and Jimmy for his actions back at the mine, but he hadn't felt it was necessary to apologize to Heather until Elizabeth mentioned it. She had made him see that his behavior had only made things worse for everyone at the mine. And she'd done so without yelling at him or making him feel overly guilty the way his parents had. Even so, it was one thing to know he should do it, and another to actually have to.
"It's ancient history, Jordan, but thank you," Heather told him as she took the plate of fruit Joanne passed her.
"How'd the meeting go, Mom?" Jordan asked. Joanne taught fifth grade at Jericho Elementary and this morning's meeting with the school board was to determine when school would be back in session.
"The elementary school will start up again on the fifteenth," Joanne told her son.
"What about the high school?" Elizabeth asked.
"Unfortunately, it probably won't be for awhile," Joanne replied. "Unlike at the elementary school, a lot of the high school teachers left after the attacks to go check on their families. The ones who are still here decided to wait a little longer to see if any of them will come back."
"How long are they going to wait?" Jordan asked. It wasn't that he really wanted to go back to school, but by doing so he wouldn't be stuck in the house all day and night as were the rules of his current restriction. Even if he did manage to sneak out when his parents were sleeping.
"No longer than the end of the month," Heather answered. "Your mom and I would love to see you back in school the same day as our students, but your teachers wanted otherwise. Sorry, guys."
"No big deal," Jordan said, shrugging. "Besides, if I, or my friends, want to continue our studies before school is back in session we'll just have Liz teach us. We learn more from her than our teachers anyway." He grinned at his mother and Heather, before continuing, "but if we had you two teaching us, Liz wouldn't have to."
Elizabeth returned Jordan's smile. "Thanks, but I really don't do that much, just clarify a few confusing points."
"Don't be so modest," Jordan returned.
The two were staring at each other from across the table, their eyes saying more than words ever could, oblivious to the other occupants of the room. Heather and Joanne looked back and forth between the two teenagers and gave each other knowing smiles. Finally remembering they weren't alone in the room, Elizabeth broke eye contact first.
She stood up, picked up her glass and plate and walked into the kitchen. She set her dishes in the sink, and reached for the dish soap.
"You don't have to do that, Elizabeth. I'll make Jordan wash them later," Joanne said, glancing at her son before continuing, "As part of his punishment."
"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked, turning around to face Joanne. "I really don't mind—"
"I'm sure. The more chores I give Jordan to do, the less opportunity he has to sneak out of the house." Jordan squirmed in his chair under his mother's glare.
"Okay." Elizabeth walked away from the sink. "I'll go get my shoes and jacket and then we can leave, okay, Heather?"
Heather nodded. "Sure."
Elizabeth left the room and headed up to Jordan's room. She picked up her shoes from the floor then sat on the edge of the bed. She untied the laces of both shoes, slipped one on, and then tied it. As she slipped on the second shoe, the door to Jordan's room closed. She looked up to see Jordan standing there, back against the closed door, a huge grin plastered on his face. Elizabeth shook her head and laughed, then resumed tying her shoe.
"What's so funny?" Jordan asked.
"You," Elizabeth answered, standing up and grabbing her jacket off the back of Jordan's desk chair. "What'd you do? Tell them you needed to help me?"
"No, I'm not that obvious," he replied. "I told them I had to go to the bathroom."
Elizabeth slipped her arms through the sleeves of her jacket as she walked towards him. "Oh, because that won't be obvious when they realize you opted to not use the one downstairs."
Jordan grinned at her. "By the time they realize it I'll already have kissed you goodbye." He cupped her face with his hands and tenderly kissed her. "So, did you really mean it when you said you won't be meeting me in the middle of the night?" he asked, when he pulled back no more than two or three inches.
She nodded. "Give me a little bit of time to convince Jake I'll be good, then we—"
"Can go back to our midnight rendezvous in Stanley's barn?" Jordan interrupted. "You know, we wouldn't have to sneak around if we just told everyone we're dating. I mean, you are sixteen now, you're allowed to date."
"I've got no problem telling your parents, or mine. It's—"
"Your brothers? Specifically Jake?"
She nodded again. "Yeah. It's that whole annoying big brother thing they do."
"Okay. It's no big deal. Just hurry up and convince Jake you're going to be a good girl, 'kay?"
Elizabeth smiled. "Gonna miss me?" She lifted her hand to his chest, grabbing a hold of his t-shirt. "Here's something to hold you over until next time." With that, she pulled him towards her and kissed him passionately. "Listen to your mom. 'Cuz it would suck if I get a chance to come see you and she has you handcuffed to your desk because you got in trouble." She kissed him once more, a mere peck. "Bye."
"So, how much longer are you and Jordan going to keep your relationship secret?" The question came from Heather as she ushered Elizabeth into her apartment and closed the door. Elizabeth stopped with one arm out of her jacket and looked at Heather. "Don't try to deny it; the way you two were looking at each other—"
Elizabeth blushed. "Were we that obvious?"
"Yes, somewhat," Heather chuckled. She set her keys on the entry table and took off her jacket. Hanging it on the coat rack, she continued, "But, what confirmed it for me was when Jordan followed you upstairs."
Elizabeth giggled as she removed her jacket and hung it on the coat rack. She shook her head. "I told him you wouldn't believe his excuse." She groaned. "Oh, man, what did Mrs. Casey think? Does she know?"
"She has her suspicions, but that's all. She thinks you're good for him. Besides, even if you two weren't dating, it'd only be a matter of time."
"Why do you say that?" Elizabeth followed Heather into the apartment to the dining table, where stacks of notebooks were piled on one end.
"You guys have known each other forever, right? Joanne says you were the only girl that Jordan never said had cooties. And, since the accident, you two have gotten really close. Not to mention, didn't you say he was the boy who kissed you on the cheek at your seventh birthday party?"
"Eighth," Elizabeth corrected. A gleam in Elizabeth's eyes told Heather there was more to the story and she became curious.
"And the next time?" Heather prompted.
Elizabeth avoided her eyes as a blush appeared on her cheeks at the memory of her first real kiss. The day it happened had started on a lousy note; she never imagined it would have ended so wonderfully.
"Elizabeth," Heather said, her voice taking on a nagging tone.
"Okay," Elizabeth said. "It was on the lips at my eleventh birthday party. Although, I think the only one who knows about that is my mom." At least, she hoped that was that case.
"See? It was bound to happen," Heather told her. "How long have you two been going steady?"
"Nine months." Elizabeth flipped through one of the notebooks. "You want me to grade these for you?"
"If you want, but you don't have to. We still have time before school starts up. " Heather turned and, using one of her crutches, headed down the hallway towards her bedroom. "I'm gonna go change out of these clothes."
"Okay." Elizabeth reached for a red marking pen and set to work grading the spelling words in the notebook. When Heather returned a few minutes later, Elizabeth was halfway through with the spelling tests.
Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Heather asked, "How are they?"
"Overall, pretty good," she replied, looking up. "But Tommy still doesn't understand that there's such a thing as a hard 'c'. He spelled both 'cage' and 'castle' with a 'k'.
"I had a feeling I'd have to spend a bit more one-on-one time with him, I just don't think he's getting much help at home," Heather said. Sighing, she sat down and took the notebook Elizabeth handed her. "Well, at least his writing is more legible now."
"Well, if you want some help, I'd be more than happy to help in your classroom when school starts back up. I could work with Tommy or keep the other ones busy while you do," Elizabeth offered. She passed half of the remaining notebooks to Heather, along with another red marking pen, and then started to grade another test.
"You really want to do that? I mean, you do realize that every other teenager in Jericho is going to use the time off to party and just hang out, don't you?"
"Yeah, and I'll be doing that, too, but I think I'll just find myself getting in more trouble if I don't have something productive to do." She shrugged. "Besides, I like being around the kids." Whether she admitted it to Jake or not, she had taken their talks of the last few days to heart. She was beginning to realize how difficult she was making things for her family. Things at Town Hall got crazy enough for Mom and Dad. Her family deserved the chance to come home and relax at night instead of dealing with her bad attitude and rebellious behavior. Maybe helping out in Heather's classroom would keep her out of trouble.
"More trouble?" Heather questioned. "You got in trouble again? For what?"
"David—I mean, Mr. Cutler—talked to my dad again. Yes! Alright, Lucas!" Elizabeth looked at Heather, ecstatic, as Lucas was one of Elizabeth's favorite kids. "He got his first hundred. I knew he could do it!" She passed the book over to Heather to look at. "I think that deserves a sticker, or at least a smiley face."
"How about both?" Heather asked as she drew a smiley face and then placed a sticker in the top right corner of the page. Removing another sticker, she added: "And, one more for volunteering to go get help the other night." She set Lucas' spelling workbook aside and returned to her pile of workbooks. "You almost done?"
"Two more."
They finished grading the tests then set their pens on the table. Elizabeth looked at Heather, "Hey, you still want to have the Haunted House for Halloween, right? 'Cuz I talked to my Dad and he said we can still use Town Hall."
Five hours after he left the house, and getting his parents to agree to let El live with him, Jake found himself at Bailey's, considering his options. He had looked at three different houses: one only a few blocks from his childhood home; one near Eric and April's; and one in the Pines. Money wasn't a problem, he had more than enough in his savings to buy even the most expensive of the three. Growing up in small town Jericho, getting to know his neighbors wasn't a factor. Despite being gone for so long, Jake still knew most everyone in town. He generally got along well with everyone, the only exceptions being some of the older citizens—ones who had once fallen victim to his adolescent pranks and destructive behavior, and a few of his peers who he'd had his fair share of fist fights with. His final decision would be based on one thing: Elizabeth.
He had yet to mention to her that he was planning to move out and that he wanted her to come with him. He wasn't sure how she would take to the idea. If she agreed, he wanted her to have a say in where they moved. He was fairly certain she would not want to move to the Pines, even though several of her friends- okay, acquaintances maybe- lived there, and it would give them a lot more room, but, really, how much room would two people need? Seeing as how Elizabeth had become quite close to April and Eric during Jake's absence, he thought that she would choose the place near their house. But, most likely her choice would surprise him. She was, after all, an entirely different kid than the one he remembered. Hell, Jake might even be getting ahead of himself, this, after all, was all going on the assumption that Elizabeth would want to move in with him. For all Jake knew, Elizabeth could tell him she was more than happy to stay with Mom and Dad, she was used to being the only child living at home, after all. Maybe she'd be glad to not have her 'big brother' living down the hall again. He would talk to her when he got home tonight. Jake sighed and signaled for another beer. He knew that the talk he'd have with El tonight would inevitably lead to the other big talk he needed to have with her- the one about her paternity. As much as wanted—no needed—to tell her, he also dreaded it. He was afraid the anger she seemed to be carrying around internally would increase tenfold. If she was anything like him at all, another pissed off Green teenager was not what the town or the family needed.
"I'm telling you, it's the Midwest." Eric's voice made Jake return his attention to the television screen, where the same loop of people running down a street was still playing. "From the skyline I'm thinking Cincinnati."
"You know, I'm wishing we could read the license plates," Jake commented, taking another swig of his beer.
"Well, let's make Cincinnati a question mark." Mary did as Eric requested, taking a pencil out of her apron pocket and drew a question mark over Cincinnati's location on the map hanging on the wall behind her. After the Chinese broadcast, Jake had found a map of the U.S. in Eric's glove box and gave it to Mary to keep track of the possible targeted cities. Based on what the Chinese had broadcasted and what Mary had circled on the map, Jake could see that many of the places he had resided in the last few years were gone. San Diego and D.C. for sure; New York was still a possibility. His thoughts traveled to his friends, his men, and their families. He wondered what Freddie was doing- if he was even alive- and how his wife Ana was dealing with her pregnancy. He had called Freddie while he was waiting to board his flight in Tokyo. Freddie had told him about his latest job offer that would take him back to Iraq. He had accepted the job on the condition that first he could accompany his wife to her family's house in Texas. He wondered if they ever made it there. He thought about Reilly, McNair and Prescott who had stuck with the original plan to stay in Japan for a few more days.
Jake again sent up a silent prayer of thanks for being allowed to come home early. He could not even imagine the hell the men were going through, being so far away from their families, not even knowing if they were still alive. Jake was grateful, now more than ever, to his boss, for allowing him to miss debriefing- a definite break in protocol- after capturing Kagawa. If O'Neal had made him stay, Jake knew he'd be going insane. Thank God he was able to be here with his family, with El.
"Hey, Jake." Stanley appeared next to him, followed closely by Bonnie. Taking the seat next to Jake, Stanley motioned to Mary for a beer.
"Hey, Stanley, Bonnie," Jake greeted.
"Anything new?" Stanley asked.
"Uh, not since yesterday."
"Shep and Gray should have been back by now," Stanley observed.
"Our radios went silent about fifty miles out," Jake explained, taking another swig of his beer.
Stanley focused his attention on the screen, despite having the entire reel of footage permanently embedded in his brain. "God…makes you wonder whatever happened to whoever shot this."
"I think that might've been the last thing they ever saw." The comment came from the newest citizen of Jericho- Robert Hawkins, a former Saint Louis cop- who happened to be walking past when Stanley commented. Jake glanced over his shoulder as Hawkins passed by; thinking that something about the man bothered him. His professional experience interrogating and bringing to justice master thieves, liars, and just plain corrupt men told him there was more to Hawkins' than what meets the eye. Jake sensed the man was more than just a cop, but he wasn't sure if Hawkins would turn out to be good or bad news for Jericho. He made a silent note to himself to keep an eye on Hawkins
Just then, the lights began to blink, eventually turning off completely. The generator had finally ran out of gas. Gasps, accompanied by a few curses, filled the room. Mary Bailey, frustrated, sighed then began to speak. "Sorry, folks. We're closing early tonight. Take a flashlight it's dark out there."
Stanley couldn't help but complain, even though he knew it was a futile argument. "What? It's only 9:30." In all of the years that he'd been able to drink legally, he had never known Bailey's to close earlier than three a.m. - not even during that freak blizzard of '97 or the night of the memorial service for the Topeka tragedy. Nope, instead, Bailey's had always been a rally point; a place for everyone to gather for information, comfort, a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic world. He quit complaining when Eric urged everyone to clear out. Accompanied by Bonnie, he followed Jake outside.
Outside, Jake saw Heather and Elizabeth walking towards the bar. Heather had abandoned her crutch and was talking with Elizabeth. Looking up, Heather smiled at Jake. "Hey."
"Hey, Heather," Jake replied.
Turning his attention to Elizabeth, he asked, "Do Mom and Dad know you're still out?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom told me this morning I need to be home by ten."
"You should head—"
She interrupted him. "I'm going. Let me just say hi to Bonnie and Stanley first."
Knowing she'd head home shortly, Jake decided to not say anything else. He watched as Elizabeth approached their friends and began talking.
"Is the generator out?"
Jake turned his focus to the blue eyes gazing into his own. "No, outta booze."
That got a laugh out of Heather. "Any more images?"
"No, just the same loop. C'mon, I'll walk you home. Where do you live?"
Heather turned, and pointing with her flashlight, replied, "That way." After taking a few steps, Heather asked, "So, is it weird being home after so long?"
"A little bit. I mean, El kept me up to date with what she thought was important. But, I was surprised to see Bailey's without the mechanical bull. Stanley must've cried when they took that out. He had the record." Looking up Main Street to the spot where he stood a few nights ago spying- yes, he'd admit it, it was spying- on Elizabeth, he noticed what he didn't before. "When did the Pizza Garden become the Cyberjolt Café?"
"Ah, when the health department shut down the Pizza Garden last year," Heather informed him. Glancing at him, she continued, "Don't tell me you liked the Pizza Garden."
"Yeah," Jake confirmed, "I used to work there. Washing dishes." But, it was more than that. The Pizza Garden housed many of his memories. It was the place where he took Emily on their first 'date' when they were fifteen and also where they had their final breakup the week before he left town. It was the place he and Grace had lunch the Saturday afternoon El was conceived. They had held El's ninth birthday there; and so much more.
"You must not have done a very good job," Heather teased. Before Jake could respond, they heard a noise—breaking glass—coming from the alley.
"C'mon, sweetheart, let's go home." Johnston wrapped his arm around Elizabeth's shoulders and turned her away from the sick man's room. There was a part of him that wanted to stay at the clinic to try to find out more information about the man Jake and Heather had discovered in the pharmacy, but Elizabeth wasn't responding well to being in the man's presence. When they first brought him to the clinic, Elizabeth had been curious and stayed with Bonnie near the window looking into his room, observing. Reality must have set in because Johnston could see she was starting to withdraw inside of her own head. Despite the fact that his job basically dictated he stay at the clinic, satisfying his duties as a parent to Elizabeth were more important. Besides, whatever information Jake could get out of the man, he would find out about it. He needed to be at Elizabeth's side if she wanted to talk.
Elizabeth let herself be led down the hall and out the clinic doors. She was grateful that Dad had noticed her focus and clarity of mind had started to wane. When she had first seen the sick guy in the pharmacy in town, her curiosity had been piqued. Her interest in the man was strictly medical. It was the first time she had seen radiation burns. She was intrigued by them, and couldn't wait to discuss it with April. But, then, after Bonnie commented to Jake that Stanley could have ended up like him, it all changed. Calm gave way to fear; intrigue to panic. Even though she wanted nothing more than to flee from the room, she had found herself unable to move away; so she had been forced to remain in the doorway of his room watching the man struggle to breathe. It really was a relief when Dad wrapped his loving arms around her and led her away.
Once outside, Johnston decided not to say anything. When she was ready, Elizabeth would talk to him. Instead, he left his arm around her shoulder, and hoped she would take that as a gesture of comfort. They walked in silence. Halfway home, Elizabeth finally spoke. "Does it ever get easier?"
"Does what, honey?" Johnston looked down at her.
Slanting her eyes, she explained herself. "Death. Watching people die."
Johnston stopped her with a hand on her arm. He was quiet for a few moments as he searched her eyes with his own. "You've been doing a lot of thinking about that these past few days." Even though it wasn't a question, Elizabeth confirmed his statement with a nod.
"It's just… the car accident and then seeing the bus… I haven't been sleeping very much."
Johnston nodded. "I know, Jake told me he caught you sneaking out."
Elizabeth groaned. "Great," she said sarcastically, "does that mean I'm grounded?"
"Not this time," Johnston replied. Jake had told him how he got Elizabeth to agree to wake him if she needed to leave the house in the middle of the night. If Jake's recent behavior was any indication, Johnston was sure that making Elizabeth deal with an exhausted Jake in the middle of the night could very well be punishment enough. "But, I thought we had talked about this the last time Eric dragged you home. Didn't we agree—"
"Da-ad," she whined.
Two months ago, Eric had caught her hanging out in an alley near Bailey's with her friends at two a.m. That had been only three nights since the last time he dragged her home, and two since Jimmy took her home in his sheriff's car. She had been under restriction then, but staying at home all day with Mom without being able to see her friends had felt so unfair. So, she waited until Mom and Dad were asleep, then had snuck out her bedroom window. The talk that had followed when Eric returned her to the house had been tough. She had promised to be good and stay put during the night, but what Mom and Dad didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Like all the times she had snuck out to be with Jordan. "Yeah, we did agree, but I couldn't help it. Every time I closed my eyes I was back on the bus."
"I get that, sweetheart, I really do. But why didn't you come talk to me, or your mother, or even—"
"Who? Jake?" she scoffed.
He set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Yes, Jake." With his other hand he directed her face to look at him then continued. "Look, you already told him about Sara and Lauren, so why not tell him everything else?"
'Because he's seen enough death; he doesn't need to know I've seen it, too.' "Because he's got enough on his mind, Dad. I don't need to bog him down with something else he couldn't prevent."
Johnston felt torn. Elizabeth would know better than anyone what occupied Jake's thoughts. If they were overwhelming him, she'd be the only one who would know—usually. But since she didn't know that she was the focus of his thoughts, what else could she be referring to and just how bad was it? He was concerned for Jake, especially since whatever Jake had done and seen the last five years made him appear to be carrying around a much heavier burden than ever before. But was that enough to justify Elizabeth's desire to keep Jake in the dark? Was she right? Would it be too much for Jake to handle?
"Well, I really think he needs—and wants—to know. It really isn't fair not to tell him. And, maybe talking to him about it would be more helpful to you. More so, than talking to your mother, me, or Eric. I don't know for sure what Jake was up to when he was gone, but I think I've put enough together to know that most of it wasn't good. I think he'd know how to help you with the PTSD; I have a feeling he's dealt with it himself."
Dad was right, whether she'd admit it or not. She suspected Jake was dealing with some PTSD symptoms. She knew Jake had seen several of his friends deal with the after effects of a traumatic experience. She also knew that Jake himself was occasionally tormented by nightmares, although he had never told her what it was about. "Alright, I'll think about it. Okay?"