Steve needed to inform Jack of the developments at the police station. Whatever Jack was wanting to say to Lawrence, it needed to be soon somehow. He tried to go into Jack's room, but it was locked. He grew immediately concerned that Lawrence had launched a second strike against his brother.
"Nurse! Nurse!" Steve called. "Why is this door locked? I want to see Jack Deveraux now."
The nurse shook her head, "You can't. He's indisposed."
Now Steve was really growing concerned and flashed his badge, "What do you mean I can't? He's my brother. If the person who injured him is trying to hurt him again then I need to stop it NOW."
The nurse knew she could no longer be vague, "Your brother is fine. His fiancée is in there…" the nurse struggled for the explanation that wasn't too explicit, "helping him get cleaned up."
Steve pointed at the door, "Jennifer's in there?" Steve audibly exhaled, feeling palpable relief and collapsed in a chair.
Steve read the subtext of the nurse's statement. Jennifer's giving him a sponge bath. Happy Jack indeed. The dichotomy between his fears of what had happened to his little brother and what was actually happening made him laugh. Steve stayed seated for a while, patiently waiting.
When he saw the handle turning on the door, he stood up. Jennifer walked out, trying to appear calm and inconspicuous. Of course Steve noticed the candy striper outfit and successfully suppressed a smile.
"Steve," she acknowledged him as she passed by.
"Jennifer," he answered back.
Neither would comment on the obvious.
When Steve entered the room, the privacy curtain was still pulled in front of the door so he couldn't see his brother yet. The distinctive pungent smell still lingered in the room, but his message couldn't wait any longer. Steve cleared his throat loudly as Jack's hearing wasn't good yet in order to announce his arrival.
Jack was still reveling in Jennifer's astonishing surprise and the memory of her wearing that candy striper outfit. He remembered his long-ago fantasy of Jennifer gripping his tie, taking charge, and seducing him in the Spectator office. He just barely heard someone clearing his throat and knew instantly it was his brother. He quickly schooled his face to a more placid calm expression—he was, after all, raised to be the perfect politician.
Steve rounded the curtain and got straight to the point, "Lawrence got beat up last night. Not enough to land him here in the hospital though."
"Who did it?" Jack asked. "I mean, Harper pretended once that he got beat up in jail to get sympathy from me. It worked too, the bastard."
"It happened. A few cops heard that he's the one who likely sent a bomb to the daughter of a cop and the niece of their captain and wanted a little payback. The upshot is that he's being transferred to Statesville next Monday so that he's away from the local cops. You said you've got something that only you can say or do to the guy. Well, whatever it is, it needs to be within the next five days. Is that possible?"
Jack hadn't thought about getting out of the hospital that early. He would have to manage though—if only to go the police station and then back here.
"Definitely. What I have to say to Alamain hopefully will end this for good."
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The next morning, Jennifer returned to the hospital after a quick trip home to the penthouse (she didn't consider the loft home anymore) for a quick shower and change. While she had been gone, she saw the doctors had removed several of Jack's restrictions during their morning rounds.
Jack had recovered to the point where he no longer had the heart rate monitor or was attached to any other machines and he no longer had to wear the hospital gown, but could instead wear his own paisley silk pajamas. She smiled because she knew he was far more comfortable and was glad she had brought them to the hospital on the first night.
Jennifer then blushed when she remembered her incredibly forward actions the day before when he was still wearing the hospital gown. It was quite daring of her to do something like that under any circumstances but especially with the memories she was still fighting against now. However, it was nowhere near as bad as it had been. Her "job" had been exhilarating too. She knew some day soon that she would feel ready to make love to Jack again and they would be completely a couple once more.
The night before when she returned to Jack's hospital room changed back into her normal clothes, she was feeling shy and reticent again and reddened when she saw Jack. Jack, reading the situation, hadn't commented on her candy striping performance, and they spent another peaceful night squeezed together on the twin bed. That was, until the nurses switched at shift change and ordered Jennifer out of the hospital bed. She slept the rest of the night in a chair, close at hand so she could hear Jack breathing and hear the comforting metronome of the heart monitor.
When Jennifer returned from the penthouse, she brought back a tape player with her and set it down on the overbed table before greeting Jack with a kiss on his cheek.
Jennifer put her hand on his forehead, like she was a mom checking her little child for fever, "How are you feeling?"
Jack looked her up and down; she was wearing jeans and a sweater but she was exceptionally desirable regardless of what she wore. "I can't quite hear so well. Come closer." He beckoned her with his forefinger, but his eyes were sparkling.
Jennifer moved in close to his left ear; her breath tickling the tiny hairs on his ear and neck. "How are you feeling?" she repeated, her voice betraying her intense concern.
Jack turned sideways and kissed her lips. He was tempted to reach up and encircle her with his left hand, but he was worried that sudden movement would activate her fight, flight or freeze response, so he kept it as a simple kiss. Jennifer was going to set the pace for them. Not him. He would presume nothing.
The kiss, though simple, was warm. It was fulfilling and reinvigorated his desire to get well and go home. It was Jennifer's very special medicine for him and he prescribed himself a lifetime supply of her kisses.
"How are you feeling?" she asked for a third time.
Jack picked up her hand and held it in his; he needed to touch her, needed her in close proximity to him. "Much better now that you're here. Honestly, I'm good. I love hearing your voice. I missed it those few days I couldn't."
"Are you feeling well enough to stand up for a few minutes?" Jennifer asked. She wanted to share something with him, but it could wait.
Jennifer had a plan, Jack could tell. "Sure, it was my hand that got injured. Not my feet," he answered.
Jennifer dimmed the lights in the room and helped Jack swing his feet over so they dangled off the bed. She put on his slippers and helped him to his feet. He had never felt their height difference so acutely as now. There wasn't anything physically preventing him from standing up. The major effects of his concussion had worn off and there really was no longer any risk of dizziness. He felt slightly weak from spending the last several days in bed. But adrenalin, determination, and Jennifer's strong arms kept him upright.
She encircled him with her arms at his waist. "I want to dance with you. Nothing complicated like a tango, just a slow dance, with you holding on to me. Consider it therapy to help get you back on your feet. Okay?"
Jack could deny her nothing. Of course, he nodded. "You take such good care of me."
She reached over and switched on the tape player. The instrumental version of When I Fall in Love started playing. Jack immediately recognized it as the song from when he had asked her to dance 'with her ex-boss', the night she got engaged to Emilio. It was also the song that was playing when they met by chance at the Cheating Heart soon after he learned about the rape. She had run out of the Heart that day and they didn't have their dance.
It wasn't too late though.
The soulful and melancholy saxophone too perfectly reminded them how close they came to disaster, how close they came to losing these moments forever.
She held his left hand with her right hand and put her other hand around his waist—to help support him and to keep his injured hand free. Jennifer slightly, very delicately, with feather-light pressure, laid her head against Jack's chest. Once settled for a few moments, she looked up at him, "Is that okay? That's not too much?"
Jack shook his head no. He was in pain, but it wasn't too much—certainly not enough to deny themselves this song.
Jennifer breathed in his scent. He smelled like hospital soap and hospital cleansers. He didn't smell like himself, but still it was Jack. Undeniably, unmistakably, unassailably, uniquely Jack.
Her Jack. Her one-and-only Jack. Jack's large hands, Jack's height above her, Jack's broad chest.
The memory of Jack's lips from his recent kiss still lingered on her lips. Goodness gracious, she loved this man. She wanted him to always know. Always feel confident in her and in them. She knew his pride and his self-confidence had taken quite the beating over the last few years and she wanted him to never doubt her. Not ever again.
When the music reached the second verse, Jack remembered the lyrics and he spoke the words softly. He didn't feel comfortable singing them:
"When I give my heart
It will be completely
Or I'll never give my heart…"
Jack didn't sing the rest of the verse: And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too is when I fall in love with you.Those lyrics just didn't apply to him. Because Jack fell in love with Jennifer long, long before the moment that he knew she loved him back. She held his heart in her hands and he felt lucky and blessed that she wanted him too and that he did not love in vain.
The music transported them both. They knew no time or place.
It was 10:16 a.m. on a Wednesday morning in a hospital room, decorated with industrial cotton curtains and stainless steel bedpans—probably one of the least romantic times of the week and least romantic places by any external standard. But Jennifer and Jack lived by their own rules. Time and place and the outside world just did not exist while their music played.
And Jack hoped that their timeless song would never end.
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Two days later, Jack was released from the hospital and went with Steve directly to the jail. From his hospital bed, using his phone, he had already made all the necessary arrangements for his talk with Alamain. He hoped that his plan would work. If not, he wasn't sure what more could be done to protect his family.
Steve had agreed to bend procedure and let Jack into the interview room to talk with Lawrence. Steve agreed only if he could watch and listen from the other side of the two-way glass and that Lawrence stayed hand-cuffed.
Lawrence shook his head in mock sympathy when Jack entered, "I heard about your unfortunate accident. It looks like we won't be fencing opponents again anytime soon—at least not with you fencing right-handed. That was such a nasty stroke of luck; I'm so relieved that you're okay Jasper."
Despite his words, Lawrence's tone was unmistakable. He had a few bruises from where the officers roughed him up, but certainly nothing like he had deserved..
"Sarcasm?" Now Jack truly felt livid. "That's what this entire farce has been reduced to? Your little plan to get the Von Lesuchner fortune and all the ensuing retaliation, it was all just an excuse for you to feel important—because you had some self—important mission to increase your wealth." Jack replied, partially using strategy and partially because he meant it. "How pathetic is that?" All this injury, destruction, and interrupted lives just so some rich man could increase his bank account by some modest percentage and coddle his need for overwrought and diabolical theater.
Lawrence's eyes were gleaming, probably gloating that Jack may have pre-empted his attack, but got hurt badly in the process.
Jack rolled his eyes; Lawrence was such a smug coward, "Ever since I learned the full truth from Jennifer, I've thought a lot about you. About how you became twisted into your current incarnation, about how similar we might be, about how you could turn out to be so despicable when your father Leopold was so kind and loving."
Lawrence appeared unaffected by Jack's words, which is what Jack expected. Jack then grabbed the chair on the opposite side of the table, spun it around and straddled it.
Lawrence took his opportunity, "Come now Jasper, let's discuss that videotape. I know you've seen it. Haven't you?"
Jack suddenly went very still. He knew if he so much as twitched a muscle, he'd go over that table and throttle the guy.
"You have," Lawrence continued goading him. The videotape was in evidence now; there was no use denying it. "Want to compare notes about Jennifer?"
Jack stayed silent, waging his internal battle to keep his cool. He had an agenda and needed to keep it.
When Jack didn't give a response, Lawrence went on, "No? Well, how about I talk about Jennifer if you talk about Kayla?" Lawrence then, quite pointedly, looked at the two-way glass, knowing that Steve was on the other side.
Jack finally found his voice, "You know that is not why I came here today. I have no interest in inflicting flesh wounds or shallow knife cuts. If you wish for a fight to the death, that can be arranged." His tone was cold and steely.
In college, Jack and his fraternity brothers had often traveled down to Atlantic City. Poker was their favorite—it was just a game for rich young boys to play. Schooled in politics, Jack had been very good. Now Jack had the highest stakes hand of his life.
Jack took a vial out of his suit coat pocket, set it on the table and silently slid it across the table to Lawrence's side.
Lawrence glanced at it, "That's a vial of blood. Are you intending some cheap theatrical trick about spilling blood?"
"No," Jack replied coldly and evenly, angling his left ear towards him to make sure that he heard every word properly. "That's yours to keep. A gift to repay the one you sent to Stephanie's birthday party."
Lawrence shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about. I heard about that unfortunate incident and that your thankful foresight prevented a tragedy. I was so…relieved…to hear that precious little girl was unharmed." His tone was mockingly innocent.
Jack leaned forward, measuring him, hoping to convey the seriousness of this visit. The mocking and the games needed to end. "You should…make it your mission…to guarantee that little girl remains unharmed. You should make it your mission to guarantee that nothing happens to anyone from the Horton, Von Leuschner, Brady, or Johnson families. Or anyone in Salem or beyond Salem for that matter."
"And why would I adopt such a mission for myself?" Lawrence asked, incredulously, still mockingly.
"To guarantee that more of that blood is not spilled," Jack indicated the vial resting just beyond Lawrence's fingertips.
"Okay, you obviously have an agenda here. Whose blood is this?"
"Your son's." Jack said coldly, his gaze never leaving Lawrence's face.
Lawrence blinked several times, not understanding. "Is this some cheap parlour trick like your manufactured marriage certificate to Jennifer?"
Jack kept his voice a monotone; he studiously removed all emotion. "That vial is yours to keep, you vile bastard. Have it tested. You'll get your paternity certified."
Lawrence was struggling through the connotations, trying to determine what information that Jack could possess. There was one most likely possibility. "Is Jennifer pregnant?"
Jack hadn't expected that question; it threw him temporarily, but he quickly recovered. Jack would not disclose anything about Jennifer to this man. "That is a vial of blood from your son, now living. Test it. It's yours. You'll verify what I'm telling you today. I can access your son. I can reach him anytime—for good or for ill. And he will continue under my…protection as long as everyone that I care about remains under your…protection as well."
Lawrence brought one of his hands up to his lips; his other handcuffed hand followed along. He was studying Jack, determining out the possibilities. "So you're presuming to foist a little boy, a baby boy upon me?"
Jack recognized Lawrence was fishing for information. Jack would provide no clues to his son's age or identity and had made sure that Nicky's blood provided none either—like diabetes or some other medical condition that would aid in Lawrence's search. The boy could remain safely anonymous for a long time to come. Jack had a protein added to the blood sample that slightly altered the X chromosome to hide the identity of the mother and keep her anonymous as well. Lawrence could try to determine the mother, but he would fail every time. The Y chromosome, needed to verify paternity, remained unaltered.
Jack ignored the question, "I would never risk the life of someone so young and innocent; for example, I would never send a bomb to a child's first birthday party. However, if compelled to act, I will. If you have learned anything about my past or my parentage, then you know the havoc that I am capable of bringing. I will do whatever is necessary to secure the safety of those most dear to me."
Lawrence sneered, "You're a fool Jasper if you think I will ever be checkmated."
Jack was frustrated; he was trying to reach out to Lawrence, despite everything, and the man would not be swayed. "I am hoping, instead, for a stalemate. I sincerely hope, for all our sakes, that your son's blood is not spilled. It will be spilled though; his blood will be on your hands, if necessary. I can promise you that." Jack recalled an analogy that he hoped would be effective in this negotiation. "The USA and the USSR managed to emerge from the Cold War, relatively unscathed, because of the potential for mutually assured destruction that hung over both countries. You don't know your son, but hopefully, the simple fact that he does exist is sufficient enough for you to guarantee that he keeps breathing. I hope that your son's life is adequate motivation for you to avoid any further attempts at bloodshed."
Jack held Lawrence's gaze for a long moment, making sure he drove home his deadly certain point before continuing to the second half of his message.
"I hope we are clear on that point," Jack enunciated. "I know you have done your homework on me and my past. You know that I was raised by a psychotic father. I would not foist such a fate on anyone. That is why I choose that your son and his identity will remain hidden from you as long as it is within my power to accomplish that. I truly wish to protect the boy from harm—and I hope you will assist me on that point by protecting my family in return. And I wish to protect him from you…as long as that is necessary."
Lawrence was still convinced that Jack was trying to scam him about a son that he knew nothing about, but that certainty was waning. "You should not be fooled to think you've won you—."
"I was you," Jack interrupted and leaned forward, "Or some close facsimile of you. The arrogant, self-absorbed, unfeeling, empty bastard that you now are. I won't ask you how you got to be that way—I'm not your shrink. But I do know that there is a better way. Despite everything that you've done—the boat explosion, the kidnappings,…the wedding day…, the bomb at the birthday party—you can still turn your whole life around. No one has died. You are not beyond redemption…yet."
Jack remembered his dream when he had tortured Lawrence and dreamt that Lawrence's face had become his own. For his own sake, he needed to tread carefully, "Seeing you, knowing how you hurt so many people I care about, I could feel that dark evil part of me become resurrected. I don't like it; but don't for one solitary second be fooled that I am tamed. I will never be tamed. You cross me again and you will know my wrath." Jack paused and took a long breath, "However, I hope that won't be necessary."
Jack got up and turned around to face the two-way mirror knowing that Steve was listening on the other side. "A while ago, I realized I had such an empty and meaningless life and I worked hard to turn my life around. It wasn't easy and for a long time, no one believed that I was sincere. But my life is a thousand times better now than it was when I was trying to destroy people's lives and allowing my head and heart to be consumed by anger. If you work toward redemption, towards earning forgiveness against those that you have wronged, then you might just have a chance to make your life worth something. It can be done; I'm living proof of that."
Lawrence rolled his eyes.
Jack smiled, "Go on. Do that. Be smug. Smile. Smirk. Scoff. Sneer. Snarl. It's nothing I haven't done a thousand times back when I was as pathetic as you are now. There is a better way though. Seek atonement. Seek humility. Seek forgiveness. Go down that path and do it sincerely…"
The next words came out slowly; they seemed like a betrayal of Jennifer, but also a necessary step for his own soul.
"…and I will forgive you…"
Jack glanced back to the two-way mirror, "…as others forgave me."
Those words were difficult to speak; he doubted that Lawrence or Steve would ever know what it truly cost him to make that offer. Knowing everything that Lawrence had done, knowing everything that Jack himself was and what he had done.
Before today, he thought it had been difficult to ask for forgiveness. That had been his most difficult task of his life. Offering it, potentially, to someone so wholly unworthy was a thousand times worse. And Jack realized at last what it had cost his brother to offer his kidney and to play nice after the transplant when Jack's body threatened to reject it.
Jack turned back to Lawrence, gauging him, measuring him, and doubting that his offer would ever truly find solid ground. "I can help you obtain your second chance. If you prove yourself as a better man, then I will reveal to you the identity and whereabouts of your son."
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Jack exited from the interview room and stood in the hallway, his back up against the wall, his head angled up the ceiling. He was breathing hard and his heart was racing. He bit hard on his lip, super powerfully hard to stop himself from crying and his lip started to bleed. He stayed like that for what seemed like a long time, but he knew it couldn't have been too long. Steve came out into the hallway, took one look at the state of his brother and captured him in a long hug.
"The things that bastard drives people to say, drives them to do," Jack said as Steve was holding onto him tightly.
Steve pulled him out of the corridor and into the observation room; he pulled down the shade over the two-way mirror so that they couldn't see Lawrence in the interview room. Jack spotted him for a second, still hand-cuffed and fingering the vial of blood.
Steve pushed down on Jack's shoulders so that they were at the same height and Steve could look directly into Jack's eyes. "Are you okay?"
Jack shook his head. "One minute, I'm threatening to kill his son, the next I'm offering to forgive him. No I'm not okay."
Steve noticed Jack's lip was bleeding from when he bit it and offered him a tissue. Jack turned him down and pulled out one of his monogrammed handkerchiefs from his pocket. Steve decided for Jack's birthday that he'd get him a handkerchief monogrammed with BJHJDJ as a joke (for Billy Jack Happy Jack Deveraux Johnson), but shook off the diversion and brought his head back to reality.
Steve needed to know the truth about Jack's story, "Is it true? Do you know about a son of Lawrence that he doesn't?"
Jack nodded. "And I can't tell him the kid's identity. He doesn't deserve to know and no kid deserves a father like that. But still, keeping this a secret is horrible, almost unforgiveable."
Steve was confused, "Why?"
Jack revealed his frustrations, "Because the boy's mother doesn't know about him either. She thinks he died at birth. If I tell her, then Lawrence will be sure to know as well."
"Then stay silent for now," Steve advised, still cupping his brother's face in his hands. "Until we know better what trajectory Lawrence will take or how long he'll be locked away."
"There's a problem with that too. If Jennifer ever learns that I knew the truth and stayed silent, she probably won't forgive me."
"Why? Wouldn't Jennifer understand?" Realization dawned on Steve's face. "Carly?" Jennifer's best friend.
Jack nodded.
Steve was astounded. His brother was one hell of an investigative reporter to have learned something like that.
Steve hugged Jack once more and then stepped back to look at Jack fully. "Worry about that later. I'll stick up for you if it's ever needed. But it won't be. Jennifer knows you and knows your heart." Steve paused for a moment. "Everything you said today was to protect my family, to protect everyone, to protect my daughter. I won't ever forget that."
Jack shook his head, "No. Don't thank me. I'm sorry it came to that."
"I really admire what you did today. That took a lot of guts and strength to face him and face his demons. I'm proud of you, baby brother. I mean Jack. You certainly aren't my baby brother anymore. I know now that if anyone can ever reach him, it'll be you."
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It was Jack's second day back at work and nearing lunchtime. He was able to focus better at work because his hearing wasn't back at 100% so he wasn't quite as distracted from the working chaos that happened everyday outside his door as his reporters were in a mad rush to put out a daily newspaper.
So Jack was surprised when he looked up and Kayla had come in and was standing on the other side of his desk. He immediately thought of the last time she came to his office—her monologue about the effects the rape had on her. She had stayed as far from him as possible on that day, clutching the doorknob and ready to escape from his sight. Today seemed different though.
Jack stood up immediately. "Kayla, hello. Is everything okay?" Those words rushed out—ever since the birthday party, that had been Jack's overwhelming worry and that Lawrence would try once more with retaliation.
Kayla smiled and that put Jack at ease. There was nothing wrong in the present and she wouldn't be revisiting the past. "Yes. I was hoping to take you out to lunch."
Lunch?
Jack was incredibly flattered. This offer was unprecedented. "Umm, sure! Is Steve joining us?" Kayla shook her head. "Jo?" Kayla shook her head. "Jennifer?" Kayla shook her head. "Stephanie? Caroline?" Kayla shook her head. Now Jack was really straining for lunch companions. "Bo?" Kayla shook her head. "Emily?"
Now Kayla looked confused. "Who?"
"Your cat."
Kayla smiled at that last suggestion, "No, just you and me. Is that okay?"
"No buffer?" Jack asked. "No neutral third party to help through our inevitable awkward silences?"
Kayla laughed. "How about no awkward silences?"
"O-kaaaay," Jack agreed, drawing out the word. "Stranger things have happened. Steve is a cop now, for example." Jack gave her a measured look, "You sure about lunch?"
Kayla grabbed his coat off the rack and held open the door, "Hey, you saved the lives of my daughter, my mother, my brothers, my husband, my friends, oh, and mine. I think that rates a soup and sandwich at The Sand Dollar. Agree?"
Jack circled round the desk and took his coat from her and slid it on. "Can I get a slice of pie too?"
"Sure."
"A la mode?"
Kayla looked at him sideways with the faintest hint of playfulness, "Don't push your luck."
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So while hearing the specials and placing their order with the waitress, Jack had compiled a list of polite questions and potential conversation topics to avoid any dreaded awkward silence. He was still amazed that she had invited him. It felt wonderful and special—definitely more special than the Sand Dollar's Specials. When Kayla had talked with him in the hospital, Jack assumed that their conversation would remain within the hospital walls—much like the gains in their relationship when Steve had been injured that simply could not be sustained when Steve had gotten better and had been released. For Kayla to offer lunch, to keep that progress after he was released from the hospital, it was just beyond any and all expectations.
"So did Stephanie get to open her birthday presents?" Jack asked.
"Yes, some, it was too much to open all at once anyway. At her age, it doesn't really make a difference. She liked your present—one wrapped box inside another inside another—she liked playing with all the wrapping paper and boxes.
Jack tapped his temple, "Clever and cheap."
Kayla broached another subject, "How are you feeling?"
Jack gave her the same answer he gave his mother. "Fine. Hard to type, but I'm left-handed so not too big a deal. And now I have a great excuse to not listen to people and talk loudly at them. So that's always good."
Kayla laughed, "I'm glad. I'm really glad to hear that," Kayla paused debating whether to share her news with him, "Y'know, I'm studying for my MCAT's—."
His eyes perked up, "You're going to medical school?" Jack asked, excited and proud for her.
"Planning on it, part-time, around Stephanie of course. Have to pass the MCATs first and get accepted into Salem University Medical School." Kayla had been wary of admitting her plans. Wary of telling anyone really, but Jack was Ivy League educated and had grown up around hypereducated people in Washington D.C.
"That's wonderful! With all your practical experience, you should sail through. And with the stuff that always seems to happen, it would be nice to have a doctor in the family. I'm really proud of you, Dr. Johnson."
Kayla found it tough to accept the compliment, "Well, I haven't done anything yet."
"Hey, I'll turn my head and cough for you anytime," Jack said and then sucked in his breath, and instantly regretted saying that. He winced; Jack couldn't believe what he just implied and with Kayla of all people. He was about to apologize, but Kayla turned her wide-eyed shock into a laugh.
"Wow. I did not just say that. That was a dumb joke," Jack did say; he was going to stop feeling like he needed to apologize to her all the time. "I'm known for my dumb jokes." Among other things, he thought to himself.
Kayla waved it off. She felt tranquil with Jack for the first time in a long, long while and was surprised at how much she was enjoying this lunch with him.
At that moment their food arrived and Jack sat there silent for a moment, still astounded that this relaxed lunch had ever been possible. Up until an hour ago, he would have considered it impossible. Impossible. Jack folded the word over his tongue numerous times hoping to fold it into oblivion. With Jennifer, with Steve, with Jo, and now with Kayla he was learning that with time, love, and patience, nothing is impossible.