Pain filled Jamie's eyes. “I've called her a few times, but she's never able to talk.” She looked at Jake. “Last time I talked to Sue, we were hoping that Larry was only missing. That somehow they'd find him in the rubble.” Jamie lifted a single shoulder. “Now … now we know the truth. He's dead, and, Jake …” her voice broke, “I'm not sure if I can handle seeing her. Because …” She sniffed twice, and Jake slipped his arm around her.
“It's okay, honey. Tell me … I'm here.” She rubbed her thumb and forefinger into her brow and shook her head. Then her eyes met his again, and for the first time he could see the type of terrifying fear that he'd written about in his journals.
“Jake … that could've been you. But since it wasn't, I didn't know if Sue would even want to see me. I mean …” She tossed her hands up. “I know God was there with Larry. He was there with you. I believe that. But still … I have my husband, and she doesn't. Looking at each other and admitting that, well, it'll be the saddest thing I've ever done.”
Jake waited a moment until Jamie had control of her emotions again. Then he kissed her gently on her temple and spoke in a voice that sounded almost healed. “I'll help you through it.”
“Okay.” She gave a single nod, her face brushing against his burned face.
The gesture caused a slice of pain across his tender cheek, but he didn't care. Especially not now, when all he wanted was to see Jamie through the next few hours. And pay his respects to the wife of his best friend.
They were quiet on the ferry ride back to Staten Island, and Jamie left to find a restroom. Jake pulled Sierra onto his lap and smiled at her. “You look sleepy.”
“Mmmhmm.” She yawned and rested her forehead against his. “Butterfly kisses?”
Jake refused the faint sense of panic that tried to seize him. He kissed Sierra's nose and winked at her. “Okay, silly girl.”
“ Well, Daddy …” Sierra angled her face expectantly. “Do it then.”
He hesitated, his heart pounding twice as hard as before. “You start.”
With that he fooled her, and her eyes sparkled. “Okay.” She brought her nose to his and rubbed it back and forth a few times. Then she turned her face a few inches and blinked her eyelashes several times against his cheek. He caught on within a few seconds and did the same thing, blinking his lashes against hers.
“You know what, Daddy?”
“What?”
“That's a favorite thing for me and you.”
“Yes, Sierra.” He pulled her head to his chest and clung to her, grateful that he'd lived, grateful that he still had a chance to love this darling child. “I'm glad too.”
“Are we going to Katy's house tonight?”
For an instant Jake had to search his mind before he remembered. Katy was Sue and Larry's little girl. “Yes … just for a little while.”
Sierra sat up so she could see his eyes. “Did Katy's daddy get hurt in that big fire? The one with the airplanes in the building?”
Jake felt his heart sink. The child didn't know, and he had to tell her. They could hardly stop by Sue's house and have Sierra asking Katy where her daddy was. “Honey, I have to tell you something very sad about Katy's daddy.”
Jamie returned then and took a seat beside Jake. “What's the conversation?”
Jake gave her a knowing look. “Sierra was asking about Katy's daddy. Whether he got hurt in the bad fire, the one with the airplanes in the building.”
“Oh.” Jamie inhaled sharply through her nose and looked at the dark fall sky for a moment. Then she shifted her gaze to Jake, and her eyes pleaded with him. “You tell her, okay?”
Jake turned back to Sierra. “Katy's daddy died, honey. He went into that bad fire to save people, but he never made it back out.”
Sierra's expression filled with fear, and then as though she'd suddenly sprung a leak, her innocent eyes filled with tears. “You mean … he's never coming home again?”
“No.” Jake placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders and searched her face. “But we know where Katy's daddy is, don't we?”
“Yes.” A huge tear rolled down Sierra's nose and plopped on Jake's jeans. “He's with Jesus.”
“And that isn't so bad, is it?”
“No.” Sierra sniffed. “But Katy doesn't have a daddy anymore.”
“Aw, sweetheart, yes she does. It's just that her daddy lives in heaven.”
Sierra thought about that for a minute. “I don't ever want you to live in heaven, okay, Daddy. Not until I go there too.”
“I won't.” Jake chose his words carefully. If September 11 had taught him one thing, it was that life held no guarantees. He exchanged a meaningful look with Jamie and continued. “But if Jesus has a job for me to do—like saving some people in a fire—and in the middle of it He tells me to come home to heaven. I'll have to go. You know that, right? Just like Katy's daddy.”
Sierra tilted her head, and her golden curls fell gently across her pink sweater. “You mean Jesus told Katy's daddy to come home while he was helping people?”
“Yes.” Jake gave a firm nod of his head. “That's exactly what happened.”
“Oh.” She wiped her nose. “I still hope Jesus doesn't do that to you, Daddy. Because I want you with me forever.”
Jake kissed his daughter's nose and reached next to him for Jamie's hand. “I want that, too, honey. Forever and ever.”
The ferry pulled up at the dock, and the three of them made their way to the car. Ten minutes later they were standing on the front porch of another house Jake didn't recognize. A pretty blonde opened the door, and when she saw them, her hand flew to her mouth. The tears were instant for both her and Jamie.
“Jake … Jamie …” She opened her arms, and Jake, Jamie, and Sierra met her in a group hug. There, for nearly a minute, the three of them embraced, weeping for the loss of a man Jake was desperate to remember.
Sierra squirmed her way free of the circle, and Jake looked up to see her tug on Sue's sleeve. “Mrs. Henning …”
Sue sniffed hard, and through her tears she smiled at Sierra. “Yes, honey.”
“Can I go play with Katy?”
“Yes, doll. Katy's upstairs.”
The group of them watched Sierra scamper inside, and then Jamie turned to the blonde woman. “I'm so sorry, Sue … I've tried to call.” Jamie's voice was muffled in Sue's T-shirt.
“No … it's my fault. I didn't think I could look at Jake without …” She pulled back and stared at Jake as a series of sobs overtook her. “W—w—without seeing Larry too.”
They went inside and spent an hour listening to Sue, letting her cry and at the end praying with her. The only time Sue smiled was when she was remembering Jake and Larry together, and again when she found out that Jamie had become a Christian. “God is still so good …” Sue dabbed at her tears. “He's been with me even more since Larry's been gone. I can feel Him, every day, every minute.”
Sometime after one in the morning, Jake was struck by the same series of vivid images he'd seen the other night. He shot to a sitting position, his breathing hard and fast, but he didn't scream or cry out in fear. He had no doubt this time—the vision was a flashback, and not a crazy dream.
He was rushing down an endless stairwell—maybe helping someone who needed assistance, as Jamie had guessed. But then he'd fallen down the steps, and someone had reached a hand out to help him. It was only natural that another firefighter would be the one to pull him to his feet, but he would've expected the man to be Larry or one of the other guys from the station.
That was the part of the flashback that simply didn't make sense. The part that kept Jake up an extra hour that night trying to figure it out. Because the face of the firefighter belonged to someone Jake definitely recognized, but it wasn't Larry or anyone else, for that matter.
It belonged to him.
TWENTY-NINE
NOVEMBER 6, 2001
The phone call from Captain Hisel came two days later.
By then, Jam
ie could practically watch the flashbacks happen. Jake had been having the same ones—not only at night but in the daytime as well. He would be reading his journal or playing on the floor with Sierra, when suddenly his expression would change and he'd go perfectly still. Seconds later, his body would start to shake from the images in his head. In less than a minute the moment would pass, and Jake would search the room until his eyes locked on hers. For a moment his mouth would hang open, his eyes filled with confusion.
Then he'd tell her what he'd seen.
“Why would I see myself? ” Always Jake's question was the same. “The flashbacks are supposed to be real memories, right?”
Jamie had to agree that what Jake was seeing was strange. More to ease Jake's concerns than her own, she had called Dr. Cleary and gotten the response she expected.
“Head injuries are a tricky thing. The recovery of a person's memory isn't a perfect science. Strange things—seeing yourself as someone else, for instance—are not unheard of. I would expect the memory to get clearer, more correct as time goes on.”
The doctor was right—every time Jake experienced the flashback it was more vivid. But instead of eventually becoming the firefighter, Jake still seemed to be someone else, someone who saw the firefighter very clearly—helping him up off the stairs.
It was just after four in the afternoon, two days after their visit to the fire station, when the phone rang. Jake was in the living room reading a book to Sierra, and Jamie was getting dinner ready. She dried her hands on a nearby dishtowel and answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Jamie, hi … it's Captain Hisel.”
“Hi.” She went back to measuring rice into the pot of water on the stove. “It was nice seeing you the other day. I think maybe it helped.” She stirred the pot and set the spoon down. “Jake's been having flashbacks. Seeing a firefighter in the stairwell of what must be the south tower.”
“A firefighter?”
“Yeah. The doctor said sometimes it takes a while before the flashbacks make sense.”
“What direction was the firefighter headed?”
“Ummm.” Jamie wasn't sure why, but for some reason the captain's question caused a hesitation in her heartbeat. “I don't know. I'm not sure he can tell yet.”
Captain Hisel sighed in a way that made him sound tired and old. “Jamie, after you left a bunch of us had a talk about Jake.” He hesitated. “I know I'm going to sound crazy … and I'm not trying to upset you, really I'm not.”
“Whatever it is, just tell me.” Jamie heard herself utter a single, forced laugh. “What?”
“Jamie … are you sure he's Jake?”
The question made her knees weak and sent her across the kitchen to the dining room table. She sat down and leaned her elbows on the worn-out oak top. When she finally had her bearings, there was anger in her tone. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Jamie, the guy just didn't seem like Jake.” The captain released a frustrated huff. “I mean, he looks like Jake and he's about the same size. But something about his face, the shape of his jaw. I don't know, but the other guys agreed with me.” He paused. “I just wondered if you were sure.”
Suddenly, the doubts Jamie had suffered when Jake was in the hospital came rushing back. She pictured the words “O-negative” written on his medical chart and the fact that he neither talked nor walked like Jake. And what about Brownie? Even their old dog had doubted whether the man in their house was Jake.
Those thoughts—all of them—came in as much time as it took for her to draw a single breath. Then just as quickly she let them go, banished them from her mind, and clenched the phone more tightly in her hands. “Listen, Captain …” Her voice was a study in controlled fury. “Tell the guys at the station to have a little compassion, okay? Jake's doctor said that people with amnesia don't completely act like themselves until their memory returns. His face looks a little different because he's lost weight. And Jake's memory is only just starting to come back.”
“I know, Jamie … I wasn't going to call. I just thought that maybe you were too close to the situation to see what the rest of us saw as soon as—”
“Please, Captain Hisel, stop.” Jamie stood and headed back to the kitchen. “I've got dinner to make. Thank you for calling.” Then without waiting for a response from the man, she clicked the off button and returned the phone to its base. Adrenaline surged through her veins and made her heart race. A fine layer of perspiration broke out on the palms of her hands and across her face.
Of all the nerve, calling to say something so completely absurd. Did he think a call like that would help her feel better? Make her more relaxed while she waited for Jake's memory to return? Or was he merely so self-centered that he couldn't see past the amnesia to the man who was trying so hard to become the person he'd left behind? Either way, Jamie couldn't believe he'd called.
It was the meanest thing she'd ever heard.
A few minutes later Jake and Sierra came into the kitchen, holding hands. Sierra was smiling, skipping along beside Jake, but Jake's eyes were troubled, more confused than she'd seen them in weeks. “I had another one.”
Sierra broke away and headed into the backyard toward the swing set.
Jamie stared at Jake and barely noticed the child leave the house. “Another flashback?”
Jake nodded and leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on hers. “It's getting more vivid, longer than before.”
The roof of Jamie's mouth was dry as dirt. “What … what do you see?”
“The same thing.” Jake shrugged. “I'm running down the stairs and I fall, a fireman stops to help me, but when I look at him, it's like looking in a mirror.”
Doubts ricocheted across her mind like so many pinballs. Jamie closed her eyes and thought about God. Lord … I hate feeling like this … Please take away the awful thoughts Captain Hisel's put in my mind. Please. She blinked and opened her mouth, but it took several seconds before she could form the question. “Which way was the firefighter headed, you know, the one who looked like you?”
Jake lowered his brow and angled his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Jamie ran her tongue along her lower lip, “I mean was he going up the stairs or down?”
For a moment Jake stared out the window, then his eyebrows relaxed as the answer came to him. “Up.” He gave a firm nod of his head and slipped his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “The fireman was going up.”
The flashback grew even longer the following day, and Jake shared the details with her. Now, after the firefighter—who seemed to be Jake—helped him to his feet, Jake noticed a helmet on the ground, a helmet with something taped to the inside.
Jamie was terrified about what the flashbacks meant and how they lined up with Captain Hisel's concerns. She started scrutinizing Jake more closely, watching the way he brushed his teeth and combed his hair, calculating in her mind the dozens of little ways that the captain was right. The man living in her house did not act exactly like Jake Bryan. Once when Jake had turned and found her staring at him, she jumped—as though she'd been caught looking at a stranger.
After that incident she prayed for nearly an hour, and God helped her relax. It was amazing, after doubting His existence for so long, how quickly she'd adapted to calling on Him. Not because she was supposed to, but because she knew no other way to find solid ground in the midst of all that was happening. And always when she prayed, she felt her doubts dim, at least a little.
So what if Jake could see himself in the flashback. At least he was a part of the memory; that had to be a good sign, right? Jamie begged God to eliminate her fears altogether, but by nightfall the tension grew again. What if Captain Hisel was right? What if by some freak mix-up Jake wasn't really Jake? She kept her fears to herself, but they made it impossible for her to eat or sleep.
By Friday night she felt like she was losing her mind.
That evening after dinner, Jake and Sierra headed into the family room and poppe
d the Cinderella video into the VCR. Jamie bundled up in a sweater and grabbed the phone off its base just as Jake looked back into the room. His smile was easy and warm. “What're you doing?”
Jamie felt like a convict. She swallowed hard and held up the phone. “I'm going outside to call Sue.”
“Okay.” He winked at her and pulled Sierra up onto his lap. “We'll be waiting for you.”
The picture he made sitting in his favorite chair, cuddling Sierra close and watching Cinderella, was so familiar Jamie almost hung up the phone and joined them. Jake's face was still red, still thinner than it had been. His voice wasn't quite back to normal, and neither were his mannerisms. But the man was Jake; he had to be. What was the alternative? Someone else who looked just like Jake had been in the stairwell at the same exact instant … someone who knew the look and name of Sierra.
It was impossible.
Still … the few times she'd talked to Sue since their visit the other night, they hadn't discussed Jake, other than to agree that he was doing well—all things considered. Instead, they'd focused their conversations on the search for Larry's body and the hard time Katy was having handling her daddy's death. Not once had Jamie wanted to voice her irrational fears or the comments that Captain Hisel had made.
Until that moment.
Now she needed to share every doubt that plagued her, needed her friend to listen and assure her that these crazy concerns were completely unfounded. Most of all Jamie needed perspective, and as she headed outside to the picnic table with the phone, that's exactly what she intended to get.
Sue was home, and they spent the first few minutes talking about two more firefighter bodies that had been found in the rubble. When there was a lull, Jamie cleared her throat and stared at the stars overhead. A cold wind found its way down the back of her jacket, and she pulled it tighter to her body.
“I want to tell you something … something about Jake.”
“Okay.” The anxiety in Jamie's tone was enough to make Sue sound suddenly serious. “What about him?”
The Tuesday Morning Collection Page 33
