Chapter 51

In Indiana, Mary Frechette gazed hopelessly from her window. It had been over a week and there were still no signs of Billie. No sightings, no news, no help; nothing. Audrey had been right. The authorities did classify Billie as a runaway and due to her age they would no longer run her flyers- nor did Mary have the money to continue them herself. Billie had left a note and it was clear she was within the company of others. Billie had chosen that, they told Mary, and now the girl would have to live with the consequences. They also assured her that soon enough, when things began to get rough as they surely would, Billie would realize the severity of her actions and no doubt go back home. That was how the majority of cases ended.

There was little to no hope left for Mrs. Frechette. She had to believe that one day soon Billie would come back to her. This idea, negative as it was, caught on quick. Mary began to thrive on it. Yes, she was positive Billie's running away would backfire. In fact she prayed for it. She prayed for everything good in her daughters life, whatever that consisted of now, would turn utterly disastrous. She wanted it to be a failure of mass proportions. That would show her, and that was how her daughter's pain started to give Mrs. Frechette happiness.

- - -

Mary Hancock had received Billie's letter. Audrey had handed it to her in private, stating simply that Uncle John had left for good. She was already put off, upset that her uncle hadn't said goodbye, then she learned the truth of Billie's disappearance after reading the note. It didn't make sense. It didn't even sound right. It took quite awhile for Mary to actually believe the whole story, and then she wasn't at all sure she accepted it. Her best friend had run off with her uncle. They were two completely different people who had barely been introduced with at least a decade between them, and now they were together? Why? It was too much to consider that they liked each other or eveN looked at one another romantically. Love never even crossed Mary's mind.

All her memories changed. Apparently, there was a whole other side to everything. Billie's coming over, her sudden distance, her uncles hesitation when speaking about Billie or anything that even remotely involved her. He was always the one to take Billie home; Mary had walked in on the two of them dancing. Maybe it did make sense when she thought of it. They had been hiding all along. There were affections and a relationship they hadn't shared. No one had known- safe for her mother. Audrey had known, and then the woman's flustered moments were put in a new perspective also. Billie had never shared her feelings with Mary. She didn't even admit to having a crush! Wasn't that what best friends were for?

She couldn't imagine her uncle coming to her to talk about his relationship, but Billie would have. She should have. Mary felt she had been betrayed, and not only by Billie but by her own beloved uncle, and the hurt that came was unbearable. What had they done behind her back? There had to have been moments, dates... The very idea made her cringe. Did they laugh at her behind her back, at her obliviousness? Mary did not accept their relationship. Not at all.

Mary remembered the great pains she took, that she always took, to keep her uncles identity unknown. Did Billie know? How had her uncle convinced Billie to run off with him if he never told her the truth? He must have. If so, did he really believe Billie could keep a secret? Actually, Mary thought bitterly, she was very good at that. Mary didn't want to admit it, but if anyone was capable of keeping a secret and understanding its importance, it was Billie. She had never met a more honest, trustworthy and caring person in all her life. Billie had done her wrong, but no matter how much she might want to, Mary could never hate her.

Billie's note had said "...try to understand...you're still my best friend...I still need you..." Was she being serious? How could Billie possibly need Mary when she had so plainly excluded her from her life? She remembered her friend blushing and smiling. Maybe, for a time, she'd noticed her Uncle John do so as well. They were happy, or at least they wanted to be, but in their wake they had reeked havoc on both their families. How could it be right if they had caused so much damage? Mary no longer had a best friend and she no longer had an uncle. Her uncle had stolen her, and Billie had gone willingly. There was nothing right about that.

- - -

Within a matter of days John and Billie moved into an apartment. In the days leading up to their move Billie hardly felt at all like she were living with Pete and Mairy. She wasn't sure if John had a hand in keeping the two couples separated but she was grateful. He must have known how deeply she worried about conflict, or he himself didn't want anybody bothering Billie. In all the days they shared the hotel room, Billie and Mairy hadn't exchanged one word. They stayed out of each others way, and when Billie spoke to Mairy out of politeness the other woman made a great show of ignoring her. There was still no sense to their clashing and no one attempted to work it out. John made sure he and Billie were occupied during the day, and the couples mostly shared the room only during sleep.

This new apartment wasn't like John's previous space. It was smaller and, for whatever reason, more unfamiliar. Perhaps the most difficult thing for Billie was adapting to a traveling life. She didn't like not feeling as though she were settled, but John made all the difference. If she wanted some sense of home she found it with him. He was comfortable and familiar. Everything about their background could change, but their relationship and the very presence of the other was constant. Billie wanted to think that John, too, was comforted by her presence.

Another fact that amazed Billie was her ability to suddenly live with so little. Her material possessions had to fit within a single suitcase. If it wasn't a need it was unnecessary, yet John had a grand taste for anything extravagant. There wasn't much at all to unpack, and when this chore was done John stood back to watch Billie. She passed her finger over the small counter top in the kitchen and then examined her skin. Perfectly clean. There was no reason it wouldn't be clean but Billie's face appeared forlorn. She was not the only person to have been in that kitchen, nor would she be the first person sitting on the couch or running the bath. Everything was borrowed.

She peered into the bedroom, leaning against the door frame, and sighed heavily. John could sense her feelings. She didn't like it there. It was new, again, and perhaps she was already growing tired of all the new things. Billie had told him that everything would be a hard transition for her but she wanted it. There was nothing she couldn't handle and she wanted to be able to handle anything. She was doing great- for him. He stood and went to her. She was still gazing gloomily into the bedroom when John's hands wrapped around her waist.

"What'd you say we break in that bed?" he whispered, nuzzling her ear. Billie relaxed in his arms, turning and being enveloped in a kiss. John was her source of happiness. They stumbled to the bed, arms wrapped together and lips still attached. She wanted to breathe him in, become one body and mind until they released the same breaths, their hearts a mimic of each other.

Later in the night, when the ecstasy subsided but the couple could still feel a sense of rapture, the bedroom was still. Gasps of pleasure had dwindled away and their bodies now lay wrapped in a mess of bedsheets. Their encounter had been more intimate this time. What little inhibitions they still had with one another were shed, discovering and enjoying. They took turns surrendering and dominating.

Billie rested her head and a hand on John's bare chest, his skin still moist with sweat. His hand ran fingers gently through her hair. "You know, something important is happening soon," he said lazily with his eyes closed and a broad smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

"Uh huh," she replied, gazing out into the darkness and continuing to meld into the rise and fall of his breath. The only thing he could be thinking of was the robbery, something Billie wasn't eager to discuss, especially as the lay together.

John arched an eyebrow, taking a peek down at her. "You don't know?" She didn't answer right away, he beginning to think she wouldn't. Maybe she wanted him to say it first. "Your birthday, sweetheart."

Billie's eyes widened slightly though he couldn't see. A large sense of relief seemed to lift up from her. "Oh... Yes, that." He wasn't at all talking about the robbery and Billie felt bad for even tainting the moment with her quick thought. He was thinking of her, as always, and with everything happening around them so fast even she herself had forgotten.

"What do you want to do, baby?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," she admitted quietly.

"Well, th-think a-about...it..." he stumbled over his words, letting out go a loud and reverberating sneeze that twitched his whole body. Billie was suddenly grinning, sitting up and watching John as he shook it off and wiped his nose. She had never before heard him sneeze.

"Uh oh," she said though he was sitting back again and undaunted. "Not getting sick, are you?"

He smirked, brushing off her comment. "I don't get sick."

"Oh, love," she sighed with amusement, tapping his nose and beginning to peck his lips. "That's...what...they all say."

"I'm not too sick for this," he murmured against her lips before he was tasting them again. His hand cradled the back of her neck and they were lost in each other, Billie forgetting about her own birthday for a second time.