Throwaway (17 page)

“Sounds fun… I guess you could say I was out
here for a baptism,” Jessie responded. She certainly was dead to
her old life. The analogy amused her.

“A baptism? In the Mississippi?”

“Sure. Rebirth can happen all kinds of crazy
ways, right?”

“Right,” the mother spoke for the first time,
an odd expression on her face. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“Carey,” the husband looked at her in shock.
“We have to be at my parents’ soon.”

“No worries—I wouldn’t want to dirty your car
anyway.”

“No, I want to give you a ride… please?” the
woman insisted. Jessie wondered what caused the sudden sense of
camaraderie between herself and this woman.

“I need to get south of the city,” she
hesitantly conceded—it did solve a problem for her. “Anywhere south
of River Des Peres would be amazing.”

The husband opened his mouth to protest but
was silenced by a glare from his wife who told her they’d be
delighted. Jessie couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like the woman
followed up by asking her husband under her breath if he listened
to the sermons he preached.

She didn’t like putting them out, but her
options were rather limited at the moment. Together they found
their way out of the woods and back to the family’s green Honda
Pilot. Jessie sat in the back with the kids, who stared at her as
if she were an alien.

“Why are you so dirty?” the boy asked.

“Don’t you ever play in the mud?”

“Mom wouldn’t like it,” he sighed
mournfully.

“One day you’ll be grown and then you can
play in the mud, too.”

“Cool.”

“Really?” the teenage girl did not look
amused.

“Where should we drop you off?” their father
interrupted.

“Anywhere is fine. I really can’t thank you
enough.”

“Seriously, where do you need to go?”

“Affton. Gravois Road… but you don’t have to
go that far, really.”

“It’s no big deal,” this time it was the
husband assuring her. Whatever the wife said must have hit
home.

It was an awkward ride, but she couldn’t
complain. They dropped her off in a Dairy Queen parking lot at the
corner of Gravois and Mackenzie. She waved goodbye to the family in
the green Honda Pilot, gave the Dairy Queen a longing look, and
started walking. Crossing Gravois was the hardest part. Once she
made it to the other side alive, she was pleased to realize how
close to the address she was.

The Public Storage facility was tucked back
from the road. She entered the 5-digit code at the gate and it
slowly lifted. Her guess about the odd ZIP code had been right. The
first building of storage sheds she found were labeled A. She kept
walking towards the back of the lot, passing two other buildings
before she came to a set of carports labeled D. And there in lot
number 35 was the Plymouth.

To Jessie, the big car was a welcome friend.
As she slid behind the wheel for the first time, the weight of the
past 24-hours crashed over her. Images of Spence, the look on his
face. The blood. And then he was gone. Her shoulder throbbed and
she realized with a start that a bullet had nicked her. How had she
missed that?

Tears came then. Her entire body trembled
with sorrow and shock. She allowed herself the luxury of tears for
a moment, then pulled herself together and put the key in the
ignition. The big engine roared to life; there was something very
assuring in its deep, rumbling growl.

She needed to keep moving away from St.
Louis; that much was certain. Fortunately, she had an entire tank
of gas before she had to worry about where the next tank would come
from.

She drove in silence, with nothing but Gabe’s
lingering scent to keep her company. She didn’t mind so much. Her
mind needed time to process.

Without any real clue where she should go,
Jessie realized she’d made her way to Highway 44 west—the road
she’d taken with Gabe. Before her, rolling hills that had been
vibrant green just weeks ago were now muted in tone, as if they
were taking a deep breath before bursting into the song of fall.
Though she’d never seen it, she was certain these hills would be
alive with color soon.

She toyed with the idea of stopping in
Eureka. The picturesque little town held special meaning to her
now. Practical took precedence over sentimental and she pushed
on.

By the time she pulled into the rest stop
just out of St. Louis, Jessie was feeling the full effects of no
food and extreme physical exertion. She rooted through the car,
looking for anything that might help her. The glove box held a map
and registration papers. The back seat furnished the hat she’d worn
that night at Nick’s. While finding it brought some measure of
comfort, it did little to feed her growling belly.

Her last hope was the trunk, and it offered
up the mother load. The clothes she’d bought on their trip were
neatly packed in suitcases, along with a few sweaters and t-shirts
that appeared to be Gabe’s. She held them to her nose, savoring the
masculine scent that clung to them.

Tucked into the side of the suitcase was a
large manila envelope. She grabbed it and a change of clothes, then
headed for the bathroom before her bladder gave way.

Jessie felt like a new person after washing
some of the grime off in the restroom sink. A bath would have been
heaven, but the quick rinse and new clothes did wonders. Her old
clothes were balled up under the seat; she was afraid to leave a
trail just in case she was being followed.

Back in the car, she finally opened the large
envelope. In it was a credit card in the name of J. Howard. Jessie
smiled. Thanks to the book Gabe had given her, she knew that
moniker. Howard was the assumed name Jesse James was living under
at the time of his supposed death.

Along with the credit card was a bank card,
checkbook and a note that read, “Vance found your savings when he
moved your things. Hope you don’t mind, I opened a bank account
with it. Everything you need should be in here. Love you.”

Jessie wanted to weep with relief. Instead,
she fired the old car to life and headed to the nearest fast food
restaurant. Once her belly was full, she pushed herself to go
another 100 miles before checking into a Holiday Inn just off the
highway. After lugging her suitcase to her room, she indulged in a
long bath before ordering a pizza to be delivered.

She fell asleep in front of the television
before the sun had even set, and woke up with barely enough time to
get ready before checkout. After a breakfast of cold pizza, she
went to grab the map out of the glove box. Sometime in the night,
her next step became clear.

With no easy way to contact Gabe, she decided
to head towards the small town they’d passed on their way to the
cave. It seemed like a good place to hide and it would buy her time
to track down his unit.

Jessie was happy to learn that she was
relatively close to Ava, her end destination. The town was cute; it
even had an actual town square. After a few hours of wandering she
found the lone apartment building. It was a large square with two
floors of apartments on all sides. She called the number on the
sign and made arrangements to tour an apartment the next day. In
the meantime, she checked into the Super 8 motel and went in search
of food.

“I’m sorry Ms. Howard. We can’t seem to find
much of a credit history on you.”

Twenty-four hours after she’d gone in search
of food, Jessie found herself standing in the middle of a decent
but dark little apartment listening to a kindly older man tell her
why she didn’t qualify for the apartment.

“I understand,” she nodded. Apparently there
was a limit to what Gabe could accomplish on such short notice.
“How much did you say this apartment is?”

“It’s two-fifty.”

“Per month?” she choked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes…” he was starting to get irritated.

“Well, how about if I pay you for the first
year up front?”

“Excuse me?”

“How else can I establish credit?” she smiled
prettily at him.

“That’s not normally how we do it,” he
hedged.

“Please?”

“You got cash?”

“Why don’t I write you a check and I won’t
move in until it clears the bank. How’s that?”

“Welcome home,” he smiled broadly at her and
extended his hand.

And home it was. After a few more nights at
the Super 8, Jessie dove headlong into furniture shopping. It
didn’t take much to fill her small apartment, but when she was done
everything was set up just right. She chose warm colors when
decorating to complement the dark brown carpets. The end result was
incredibly cozy.

The weeks blended one into the next. The
crisp air and ever-changing trees reminded Jessie of the passage of
time. She was grateful for that, and would have been numb without
them.

Once the shock of that fateful day had begun
to subside, Jessie realized she was lonely. She missed Gabe,
Harmony and Vance. She wondered how they were doing.

And she wished she had someone to tell on the
day she first noticed her cycle was weeks past due. With little
fanfare, she’d gone down to the general store and bought a test. It
didn’t seem possible that it came back positive, but it did.

An odd mixture of happy and nervous fluttered
through her as she tried to process the information. She and Gabe
were going to be parents. Would he be happy? She hoped so. Either
way, it was something she’d thought beyond her grasp and yet, here
it was.

The apartment suddenly seemed too small, too
empty. Even if she had no one to tell, she wanted to at least be in
the company of other people. She slid on her jacket and locked up
her apartment—more out of habit than necessity.

She drove the Plymouth the short distance to
the square and parked it in front of a little diner she’d been
meaning to try. Ma’s seemed like an appropriate place to celebrate.
The restaurant was full but somber, making Jessie think she’d
inadvertently walked in on something she shouldn’t have.

“I’ll be right with you,” the waitress called
out as Jessie slid onto a stool at the counter.

She helped herself to a menu and was ready to
order by the time the harried waitress appeared.

“Sorry for the wait, sugar. We’re bustin’ at
the seams tonight since the news about Ma’s son got around.”

“I’m sorry, I’m new in town…” she furrowed
her brow.

“He died—over in Afghanistan. Just got
redeployed… barely off the plane and was hit with a roadside bomb.
Poor soul,” the waitress took a moment to cross herself before
getting the glass of milk Jessie ordered.

The burger lost some of its appeal after
hearing the fate of Ma’s son. It occurred to Jessie that she’d been
so immersed in her own trauma, she hadn’t put much thought into the
fact that Gabe was in very real danger. She missed him, but the
question had always been when he came home—not if.

When she’d choked down enough food to be
polite, she paid her tab and wandered out onto the street. Not sure
how best to start her search, she piled back into the Plymouth and
just started driving. When she passed the Douglas County Library
she did a u-turn.

Once she was sitting in front of the Internet
browser, she wasn’t sure where to start.

“What are you looking for, honey?” the
friendly librarian called out when she saw the look on Jessie’s
face.

“A friend. I guess I’m not sure where to
start.”

“Google,” the woman smiled. “Everything’s on
Google.”

“Good point,” Jessie flashed her a winning
smile before following the advice. As she began to type, the search
engine began suggesting searches. A morbid curiosity took over
Jessie, and she selected the second choice supplied by Google:
Afghanistan troop deaths. Another click and she was on the
government’s website for casualties in the Afghan war. One more and
she was staring at a list of names.

And there was one name that stood out from
all the rest. Gabe Adams, Sergeant First Class, hostile - IED
attack.

Pain slammed her in the chest. In frantic
denial, she scrolled across the line, hoping that it was another
Gabe. Not hers. Let some other woman deal with this injustice.
Claws dug into her heart and twisted and she knew that she couldn’t
foist this misery off on someone else—it would be hers.

“Thank you,” she mumbled at the concerned
librarian before stumbling across the parking lot to her car… his
car. Somehow she made it home without causing a wreck. It took her
three tries, but she finally managed to unlock the door. She kicked
it closed behind her before falling to the toilet, where she lost
her lunch.

When she was pretty sure she could move
again, she crawled over to her bed and burrowed under the covers.
And there she stayed for the better part of two months.

The baby made her ravenously hungry despite
her mood, so she ventured out to stock the refrigerator when
necessary. Other than that, she allowed herself the right to simply
exist as she grieved.

Vance and Harmony drifted in and out of her
thoughts, but the pervading memory was that of Gabe. And then there
came a day when she realized that her thickening waist no longer
fit comfortably in her clothes and she must either go naked or
venture out into the world for more than groceries.

She grudgingly showered, noting for the first
time that her blonde hair was rapidly fading to its natural golden
brown. That brought a little smile to her face—she hadn’t seen her
own hair color in a long time.

“Wow—how long was I out?” Jessie muttered to
herself when she felt the nip in the wind. The trees had completely
shed their leaves. Jessie wasn’t sure what day it was; although she
was fairly certain it was November.