“Yes. All we need are Alex’s clothes and the car seat.” She touched his face, still uneasy about their hospital fiasco. Her emotions were running so high, she was combustible. They were on a battle field, during a cease fire. Only the baby, her little dove, held them at bay.
For a second Jake’s eyes filled with warmth as he allowed himself to gaze at her. His heart pounded with a strange, undeniable fury, but he refused to crumble. With an apprehensive nod, he hoisted himself into the driver's seat of the truck.
“Let's go then.”
The hope drained from her face. Trying to mask her disappointment, she grabbed her bag and climbed into the passenger seat. She studied him through the corner of her eye as he fidgeted uncomfortably for a second. His right hand started a feeble search for hers, then drew back to clench the steering wheel. She stiffened and turned her attention to the majestic palm trees fading past them as they sped away.
* * *
When they handed Alex to Kristen, all of her strength dissolved. As hard as she tried to contain her silent tears of joy, it was useless. She couldn't believe this beautiful little boy in his tiny blue beanie, with random brown curls sneaking through, her son, was in her arms finally going home. Trapped and comfortable in the calm, dreamlike aura, she felt them help her into the wheelchair and began the short journey to the car. She couldn't take her eyes off of him as he snuggled in her arms, struggling to hold his open. Jake towered alongside of them, a docile expression on his face, her small handbag hanging off of his huge shoulder.
Kristen had kept her conversation with Jake to a minimum, speaking only when necessary for hospital procedures, but the electricity was unbearable. She couldn't refrain any longer.
“Do you think he knows who we are. That he's going home?”
It snapped him out of the peaceful realm he was lost in. His eyes flicked up to hers, contemplating her as he walked.
“I hope so.” He smiled, brushing his fingers along invisible tears that misted the freckles on her cheeks.
She flushed with delight, resting her cheek against Alex's tiny head.
LOGAN
The emergency room doctor concluded that the injury to Logan's back wasn't serious enough to keep him overnight. There were no apparent broken bones, and it appeared to have been from a fist, since none of the detainees in the holding cell had access to weapons. Or so they said. After administering pain killers to him, he was transported back to a different holding cell, with fewer suspects.
He was dizzy and confused, especially after taking the meds. At least the pain was subsiding, helping to clear his mind somewhat. The attack left him paranoid and chilled to the bone, but there was little time to complain. Even in his hazed state he knew his priority was to stay low and get out as soon as possible.
The vague recollection that he had never spoken to Nick came back to him. The police officer promised to find out. When he returned a while later and told him that bail was never arranged and he had to wait for a hearing before a judge, he struggled to figure out what to do. His second phone call was to Kristen.
The police officer stood close by with an indifferent attitude as Logan flitted from foot to foot waiting for her to answer.
“Krissy, did Nick call you? I'm still in jail,” he spoke as low as possible, holding onto the phone as if it were his lifeline. For some reason lowering his face so that it was covered by his wispy hair, provided a false sense of security from the other inmates.
“Logan! No, I called him a bunch of times. Do you have that attorney's name?”
Jake’s image zoomed through his head. He had to make it fast. “You need to look him up. It's Richard Schwartz I think. See if you can find out about bail or something. So will I.”
A sudden barrage of hoots and hollers boomed through the hallway.
“Please, Krissy, I need you to do whatever it takes to get me outta here!” Something told him not to reveal too much information over the phone. A gigantic, angry skinhead layered with venomous tattoos, leaned against the wall glaring at him. The police officer smirked nearby.
“I will. I promise. Be careful, okay.” Kristen was breathless. Then the line went dead.
KRISTEN/JAKE
After she fed and put the baby down, she sat helplessly staring at the walls. Where should she start? The air had finally cleared between her and Jake and they were warm and affectionate to each other again. Still there was a looming uneasiness prompted by his repressed suspicions. This was only going to make it worse. Regardless, she couldn't abandon Logan for many reasons, both selfish and compassionate.
Jake was busy setting up his painting supplies in the Florida Room. She was surrounded by boxes and suitcases and still had clothing and house supplies to unpack and put away. The small house needed to be cleaned. At least, the baby was asleep and she had some free time.
Calling Micky Sedakis entered her mind. Even though he was in New York, he would probably know what to do. It was almost nine months since she'd given the sudden notice of her move. Since then she'd never spoken to any of the lawyers. Decisions were never easy for her, but this one was instantaneous. She knew it was a long shot, but she had to try. She silently slipped into the backyard. After finding and leaving a message for the criminal lawyer Logan gave her, she summoned all of her courage and called Micky.
“Hey doll, it's been a long time! How the hell are you?”
Although her heart was heavy, she couldn't prevent the tiny smile from surfacing at the sound of his hearty voice. “Not too good unfortunately. It's a long story—Logan's in jail in Miami for shooting his girlfriend.”
“Holy shit! I can refer some attorneys I know down there if you want. Talk to me.”
With an unexpected resurgence of hope, she sighed and began the long story, leaving out any part that implicated herself, just as they had agreed and told the police. By the end of the conversation her voice choked and she was very close to breaking down. Then Micky's response pushed her over the edge.
“Did I ever tell you about the condo I bought on Miami Beach a few years ago? I was just complaining to Steve the other day that I don't go down there enough. So you just gave me an excuse for a long overdue vacation, not to mention, a good case always helps pay the bills. And that son of a bitch, Richard still owes me a round of whiskey.”
She sat in stunned silence, unable to believe her ears. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard Micky speaking, his voice so garbled it could've been under water. When he called out her name, she snapped out of her daze.
“You can practice in Florida? You know Richard Schwartz?” she murmured, afraid she had somehow misheard or misinterpreted.
“Yes on both! I’m a well-rounded kinda guy! Things are slow here. I'll try to book a flight for tomorrow morning and let you know when I'll be there. In the meantime, I'll call Richard and tell him to cover the preliminary hearing if I can't make it. This way he can get out on bail and not have to hang in there. That should ease your mind, huh doll?”
“Yes. Thank you.” After they ended the call, she broke down, her body wracking with sobs of joy. When her tears and energy ran dry, she lifted her head from her arms, trying to remember if she ever told him the reason for leaving New York City. She had no idea how long Jake had been standing behind her.