Chapter 21

Not too much later the meal was remembered. Billie ate her share while still occupying John's lap. Occasionally they would feed one another, handing over small portions on a fork for the other to taste. They talked quietly and about less serious subjects. At one point Billie asked him to explain what it was he did to produce the money required for fancy meals like the one they shared and for the idea of giving her an unlimited number of new dresses. Cool as anything he told her it was all rather boring, that he worked little hours and yet managed a good income, and he didn't want to spend their time together talking about work.

Before they left the restaurant Billie sat in her rightful seat again. John looked at her across the table and his eyes bore the look of intensity again. Retrieving a piece of paper and pen he began writing. "If you ever need me, I'll be here," he told her. When he handed her the paper it held an address and telephone number. She exchanged information with him and he told her to call as early as possible. When they were apart and unknowing of the next time they'd meet he needed to know she was well and safe. She tired to imagine how she would contact him and voiced her concerns.

It would be difficult for her to escape unnoticed to a phone. More so, he could never call her home. What if, heaven forbid, her mother answered and recognized his voice? There was no guarantee a call to her home would ever even reach her. John didn't even have a vague premiss to give her- for instance, that he would call only between certain hours. He never knew what would happen to him or where he would be. The impending situation started to rear its ugly head.

Nothing in his life could be easy. He could hardly get close to Billie and doing so was more trouble than most people would think it was worth. They both would begin a web of lies and deceit only to be true to one another. Then, even together, the danger never left him. There would always be outside forces breaking them apart; the same that wanted John dead or locked away in a cell for the rest of his life. And it was he who had committed the biggest and most lethal lie yet- she still had no idea who she was getting involved with. She didn't know and already he was corrupting her.

It was, of course, his greatest fear to loose her due to his own identity. He thought that if she could grow to love him and then learn of his true self, part of her would not be so willing to leave. He was manipulating her. The ultimate fear was being unaccepted, wanting to be loved for his core and his soul, and yet he wasn't giving her that option. In his mind he was, he might have even just been making it easy for her. She could come to see his good points and the man he was capable of being without his reputation shadowing everything. Still, he did not want to be entirely loved as Jimmy Lawrence. One day, she would have to know. He would have to tell her. It was inevitable.

Many lies were told to himself to make everything he did easier. If he really stopped to consider the facts and not imagine things how he hoped they were, he would see nothing but despair. There would be no hope, and he would have no strength in which to support her. She was willing to risk her friends and her family for him and he felt all he had given her so far was a misconception. How could he go on, without doubt, when he was merely putting on a performance?

He couldn't think about it all too long. It would simply have to happen; soon. Until then, and he didn't give that moment a proper place or time, he would ignore it as best he could.

Before leaving the restaurant Billie changed back into her everyday clothes. He drove her some streets away from her home so if anyone saw her walking they would assume she was doing so from school. In order for the flowers to be unseen they were shoved, roughly, in a way that broke the petals and turned the stems, into her bag for which she greatly apologized for. He did not take offense, it just the beginning of the things they would have endure to keep their privacy. This time, before leaving the car, Billie was the one to kiss his cheek.

While walking home she was uncomfortably aware of the flowers, ruined in her bag. How desperately she wanted to display them in her home, in her room, in their best vase as a testament to the mans affection. They were for her, all of them, with their different colors and characteristics, he hoping to find at least one among them to her liking. She adored them all and he even more. She had learned enough to know money wasn't an issue with the man and he wasn't hurt when she had to ruin the expensive bouquet, making his money wasteful. Flowers were not a long-term gift; he wasn't hurt to see them go sooner than expected. It was Billie who hurt, feeling as though by destroying the flowers she would desecrate some part of their bond.

It was untrue, and irrational, and more importantly he didn't take offense. Still, as she anticipated their extermination her heart grew heavy. Billie had told him she would think of some excuse, John perhaps thinking she'd get them into the house with as little damage as possible. On her walk she realized this could not be and when she was home made way to the back of the house. For a moment Billie considered putting them among the other flowers in the yard, but sooner or later they would be seen, if not die quickly all on their own. Dismissing the idea she angrily dropped to her knees, pulling the remains of the flowers from her bag and shoving them through an old, uneven gap in the lattice work under the porch.

- - -

John lingered in the living room while the rest of the house was in bed. He sat upon the sofa, the newspaper opened wide before his face, masking any view of the man. His eye was drawn to a bold headline, "Danger," in which he wondered if it might mention his name or that of any other criminal acquaintance. To his relief it was merely an article about the financial crisis involving the city's sewage and disposal plant. He noticed a large and curious picture of Babe Ruth, almost a comic drawing, with Oriental symbols surrounding it. The picture was titled, "How the Babe Looks in Japanese," and the article explained the Major-League All-Stars tour of Japan.

On the same page was another visual advertisement, this one for a movie picture. "WILD! WEIRD! WICKED!" it said, as Lugosi and Karloff stared in Edgar Allen Poe's "The Black Cat." Adult tickets were only twenty cents and John wondered if Billie wanted to see it. He wasn't sure of her preference in picture shows but was quite certain she liked them; most everyone did. The paper fell to one side as John reached away to lift his mug from an end table, sipping the warm coffee within.

Audrey was closing up the house downstairs, noticing her brother in the living room as she entered. She moved past him to shut the curtains. "More coffee before bed?" she asked him, the rest of the pot still in the kitchen. Lowering the paper he shook his head.

"No, I'm just fine."

Normally the man would have been sleeping upon the couch in which he sat, but due to his extended stay they had let him use one of the kids' rooms upstairs. The children didn't mind having to share unlike some siblings, they seeing it as a kind of sleepover or imaginary camping trip. John had to admit it was more comfortable and convenient to have his belongings in proper drawers. Audrey slowed her pace and stood before him some feet away.

"How you doing, John?" she asked him, her brows furred and her voice soft but sincere. He turned his attention to her, noticing the tone. His sister had always been more of a mother to him and her concern was everlasting.

"I'm fine," he said again.

She narrowed her eyes as if to study him, he not getting away with the easy answer. "You've been here quite a long time..."

John looked to her, realizing they were getting down to a point, and his face smirked with assumption. "Are you trying to say I've overstayed my welcome?" he asked with amusement though he was really rather concerned.

Her body relaxed a bit but not entirely. "No, not at all. It's just...usually you stay for a few days. It's almost been two weeks."

They starred at one another. A somber and curious air had filled the room, John feeling heavy with it. Something was different with him, it was true, and the fact that she could see it so plainly made him unnecessarily nervous. It was out of character for him to remain at the house for such time, anyone could see that, but he didn't put it past Audrey to assume more. She was right, but he couldn't tell her so.

"What's keeping you here?"

He paused, considering. If it weren't for a certain young girl he would have already moved on to the apartment in the city, relieving his family of his intrusive presence. He was aware that he hung around for Billie's sake; that by being with his family he was somehow closer to her. It was nice having a place where he felt taken care of, and somewhat safe, and too- he loved his family. That house in the country was the closest thing he had to a home and he would never deny that.

"I like it here," he started quietly. "I miss feeling like...I'm at home. The feds don't know where I am. After the robbery we split up, and the rest of the gang'll be in Indiana soon, but now they're clueless. Last I heard they weren't even considering the state..."

He'd leaned forward, the paper crumpling on his knees while he gave her his full attention. Audrey was no stranger to her brothers wishful and often fanciful thoughts. Nothing could go wrong for him and his confidence was dangerously limitless. His optimism had turned delusional. Being home had perhaps given him a revelation- one he could not contain. He desired safety and comfort but his choices had rendered them impossible. "I know," she spoke, tormented. She wished to be gentle and not another stress added on to him, but her worries were contradictory. "You're always welcome here. You know that."

"Really? Because you know you're harboring a criminal, and if they find out-"

"I'd be guilty. But there's no way they can take my children away from me. I would take full responsibility."

John hung his head. He was endangering everyone he loved. There was no way he would sacrifice his family, children included, for his own comfort. Everything with Billie would be that much harder but then it always would be. He had to stop ignoring the facts. "I'm gonna take an apartment in town," he told her in a conclusive whisper. "When all the gang gets here I'll go for good."

"We love you, John. Me and Emmet and the kids... We just want you to be safe."

For the first time he tried to manage a smile. "And I want you to be safe."

Turning away from him she made to leave the room and head up the stairs. She called back to him. "Turn out that light when you're done."