One Tuesday Morning & Beyond Tuesday Morning Compilation (42 page)

The captain huffed. “You know how that made us feel?” He didn't wait for a response. “Like garbage, that's how. Because we should've died up there in those buildings right beside the men we lost. Heck, we weren't the heroes, JB. We were lucky. The guys who died in the buildings—they're the heroes, you know?”

Jake nodded, again not sure what to say. Clearly the captain needed to talk to him, to catch him up on all that had happened. But without a past to anchor it to, it was almost like hearing a news report. Jake was saddened, horrified even. But he wasn't personally touched, not the way Captain Hisel would've expected him to be.

The captain studied him again. “You look different, JB. Something about your face.”

A few people at church had said that as well, and Jake gave the captain the same answer he'd given them. “Must be the burns.”

“You're thinner.”

“Yeah …” Jake gave the captain a crooked smile. “I guess that's not the worst thing.”

“You talked to Sue since you've been up and about?”

“Sue?”

“Sue Henning.” The captain looked baffled for an instant, then a knowing look filled his face. “I keep forgetting about your memory.” He gave a sad chuckle. “Sue was married to Larry. Your best friend.”

Suddenly, Jake remembered the journal entries, the times when he'd written about Larry and Sue and Katy, how close he'd felt to Larry and how deeply he'd cared for the man's family. His eyes darted to the wall of photos once more until he found the one that read
Larry Henning, August, 23, 1968—September 11, 2001
. The man was stockier than Jake imagined him, his full face taken up almost entirely by his smile.

He remembered something from his journal, something he'd written about Larry.
The two of us will always be best friends, looking out for each other at the station and in our marriages. Even in our love for God. Larry Henning is the closest God ever came to giving me a brother
.

Jake searched the man's eyes.
Why, God … why isn't Larry even a little familiar. And how come I can't remember the good times we shared
. A deep sorrow welled up inside Jake, not the type of sorrow that came with missing someone you've loved and lost. But the sorrow of a distant, incalculable loss. Because seeing the smiling eyes of the dead stranger, Jake believed that somehow if Larry were there in the room at that moment, the two of them would have found a way to hit it off.

Even if his memory never returned.

Jake let the thought pass as he took a step back and faced Captain Hisel again. “How's she handling it?”

“She's a mess. I asked her if she'd talked to Jamie, and she said not since September 11, that the three of you needed your space. Because of the memory thing.”

Jake nodded. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything, JB … you know that.”

“Give me Sue's address … directions to her house. Jamie and I want to drop by with Sierra and let her know we care.”

Captain Hisel narrowed his eyes and stared hard into Jake's, almost as though he were looking for the man who lived somewhere within him, the one who would remember all that the guys on Engine 57 and Ladder 96 had been through together over the years. “That's you, right, JB? Even though you can't remember?”

The question jolted Jake's confidence and made him want to run from the firehouse. What did the captain mean? Of course he was Jake Bryan … who else would he be? He managed a weak chuckle. “Don't say things like that, Captain. You scare me.”

The captain waved a hand over his head as though he were chasing away an errant fly. “I'm sorry. It's just … it's too weird talking to you about Larry and seeing in your eyes that you don't remember him.” The captain paused and gave him that same look, the one where his eyes bunched up and narrowed to mere slits. “You really don't remember, do you, JB?”

“No.” He caught a half breath and backed up a step. He needed to find Jamie and Sierra. Now. “I really don't.” Voices sounded in the next room, and Jake recognized one of them as Jamie's. “Hey, good talking to you. I've got to find Jamie.”

Jake made his way into the next room. Sierra saw him first, and her eyes lit up as she broke away from Jamie and ran to him. Though he still had the cast on his foot, Jake had learned how to brace himself on one leg and capture his daughter as she jumped into his arms. He wished Captain Hisel could see him now. Of course he was Jake Bryan—there was no way his daughter would've loved him like that if he weren't.

The rest of the evening he stayed by Jamie's side, keeping his conversation to one- and two-word answers. He avoided any discussion about his memory. When it was time to go, Jake took from the captain a slip of paper with directions to Sue and Larry's house. In the cab on the way back to the ferry, Jake pulled them from his pocket and showed them to Jamie.

“I think we should stop by and see Sue.”

Jamie stared at the slip of paper and gave him a sad sigh. “I know how to get there, Jake. We were close friends before September 11.”

Jake thought about that for a moment. It was only seven o'clock, but Sierra had fallen asleep between them, and her tiny body lay nestled against his side. “If we were so close, why haven't we been over to see her yet?”

“You weren't ready.”

Jamie's answer was a bit too quick, and Jake picked up on the fact. “There's more to it, isn't there?”

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.

T
WENTY
-N
INE

N
OVEMBER
6, 2001

The phone call from Captain Hisel came two days later.

By then, Jamie 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.