Chapter Twelve
Laurie, Tina, and Jill were huddled in the corner of the police station lobby. They looked out of place among the sullen teenagers who had already donned their bright-orange vests. A few of the teens strutted around the room as if they had been awarded high honors. Her friends’ faces were not as welcoming to Jazz as they had been the night they gathered at Laurie’s home. Jazz felt like she was walking through thick sand on her trip across the black-and-white tile floor. Cautiously she offered a small smile. “Hi, hope you all look good in orange.”
“Not my favorite color,” Laurie said without returning the smile.
The other two seemed to be studying the ceiling above Jazz’s head. Almost in unison, they turned their backs to her and began talking in hushed tones to Laurie. Behind her someone popped gum in rapid succession. Several teenagers laughed. Jazz suddenly understood what it meant to be at a party where no one knew your name or cared. She didn’t remember ever experiencing it before, and she didn’t like it. Her new friends seemed to edge closer to the teenagers. Were they distancing themselves from her in space and friendship? She didn’t think she could feel any more remorse at getting them in trouble.
The community service officer strode through the door. A hush settled over the lobby as the tall and muscular black woman with short, spiky blonde hair waited until everyone looked in her direction. “I’m Officer Georgia Warren. You may address me as Officer George. I am allowing you to do that because you aren’t incarcerated. That does not mean I am your buddy. You are here because you did something to our community. Today is about you making amends to that same community.
“All right, all of you, let’s get ready to go,” Officer George said as she made her way past the young man with the lip piercing and through a group of bunched-up teenagers. She stopped short in front of the huddled women, towering over them. “And, ladies, listen up. Everyone has their safety vests. Get yours on, now.” She turned and walked away toward the door.
Jazz let out her breath and glanced sideways at Laurie. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
Laurie looked down at the vest in her hands, then pulled it over her head without a word.
“Line up in single file.” Officer George waited until the last person took his place. “We will be boarding the prisoner van. It is just outside this door. You will not speak to anyone. You are serving your sentence—alone. You are not here on an outing with your friends.”
Tina poked Jazz in the back the minute Officer George went out the door. “Thanks a lot,” she hissed.
“I’m so embarrassed,” Jill whispered. “Why did we listen to you?”
“Louisa would never have caused us this much trouble,” Laurie said.
“And,” Tina said with a smirk, “she wouldn’t have lost her child either.”
Jazz straightened her back and bit her lip. She wanted to turn around and scream at them. She wanted to tell them she hadn’t lost Tim on purpose. She wanted to tell them she wished Louisa would come back because she didn’t need friends like the three of them.
But she didn’t. She stayed quiet, tears stinging her eyes and sadness twisting her heart. She didn’t say anything because they were right. Louisa would never have convinced them to do something so childish. She shuffled into the small white van and sat in an unoccupied row. She watched the shadows of her friends’ feet pass by as they found places far behind her.
The morning did not get any better. Officer George had meant it when she said no talking. She’d sent two teenagers back to the van moments after they arrived, giving them the good news that they would have to repeat their service the following weekend since they couldn’t follow the rules. After that, Jazz didn’t dare risk getting her friends or herself in more trouble by trying to apologize again.
Weary and hot by the end of the four-hour sentence, Jazz climbed into the van and looked for a place to sit. Not wanting to appear as alone as she felt, she parked herself in the first row next to a boy who wore pressed pants and a polo shirt. His appearance suggested he didn’t belong on this punishment any more than she and her friends did. She wanted to ask him what crime he’d committed against the community, but just then Officer George stepped into the van.
“Let me remind you people, you are still under my charge. There will be no talking until you have returned your orange vests.”
* * *
Hungry, Collin rushed up the stairs from the basement. He thought maybe they should go out for dinner since Jazz had suffered through community service. So far no one had called from the office to razz him. Perhaps he would come through this incident unscathed.
He expected to see Jazz playing a game with Tim and Joey. This past week, since Tim had given them a scare, Jazz had become more like a mom. He had come home early one night and found them all on the couch together. On the bookshelf, she’d discovered a book about the life of dinosaurs that was filled with detailed illustrations and a story line that interested even Madison.
Madison sat on the couch with the phone glued to her ear. Tim was at the coffee table busily drawing, making yet another book of his own. Joey lay on the floor watching Japanese cartoons.
“Joey, their mouths don’t move right.”
“Madison said it’s called anime.”
“I call it weird.” Collin tossed a pillow at him.
Joey knocked it to the floor before it hit him.
“Where’s Mom?” Collin surprised himself by giving Jazz that name. Even he had begun to think of her as the kids’ mom.
“She’s upstairs in her room,” Madison said, taking a break from her conversation.
“Thanks.” Collin started up the stairs, wondering just when their bedroom had become “her room.” Something he would be fixing soon.
Standing at the closed door, Collin raised his hand to knock. He paused, hearing what sounded like sobbing. Now what? Did he burst through the door and comfort his wife or knock and give her a chance to dry her tears? He rested his hand on the doorknob when another sob tore at his heart. No matter that she didn’t remember who she was; he knew who she was, he thought as he flung open the door.
“Jazz, honey, what’s wrong?” Collin rushed to the bed where she lay facedown, crying into the pillow.
“Nothing,” her muffled voice answered. “Go away, please.”
He sat down on the bed next to her. His hand floated above her back for a moment, and then, unable to resist offering comfort, he began to massage her shoulders. He ignored the way she stiffened under his touch—at least her crying quieted.
“Jazz, talk to me,” he said.
“They hate me.” She rolled over and stared at the ceiling.
Collin didn’t breathe for a moment. His hand was resting on her abdomen, and she didn’t push it away. It had been so long since his touch hadn’t been brushed away. Not now, his conscience reminded him. He removed his hand.
“Who hates you?”
“Louisa’s friends. They said mean things this morning.”
“Didn’t like community service, huh?” Collin debated whether or not to be a bad guy and point out why they wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Being listed in the local paper for the community to see might be on top of the list. Then again, she didn’t need any more misery from the looks of her. “Jazz, they didn’t have to TP the house. They made a choice.”
“I know, but they wouldn’t have if I hadn’t made it sound like so much fun.” Her lower lip trembled.
“You know they were just angry at themselves and took it out on you.”
“Yes, but you’re mad at me too.”
“I’m angry with them. They know you aren’t yourself. They should have been better friends and persuaded you that it wasn’t a good idea.” She still hadn’t looked him in the eyes. Good thing, too, or he knew he’d throw caution away and kiss her.
He took a deep breath. “I’m not mad anymore. You know that because I told you.”
Jazz sat up on the bed, almost touching him shoulder-to-shoulder. She leaned her head on his arm. “I’m homesick, Collin. I miss the ocean. I miss my friends. It’s all so crazy. I know it’s all in my imagination, but it seems so real. And it hurts so much knowing that. What if I never remember being Louisa?”
“Then you don’t. You have a place to live and a family that loves you.” He put his arm around her.
She snuggled closer. His heart pounded as she looked up at him with her bewitching blue eyes, sparkling from the tears.
“Thank you, Collin.”
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself. “No, thank you,” he whispered and brushed his lips over hers.
For a second, Jazz didn’t resist him, filling him with hope.
“Stop.” She finally pushed him away and climbed off the bed. “I’m not her, Collin.” Her voice could have cooled a side of beef. “I’ll be fine now. Thanks for checking on me.”
Collin stood, hands at his sides, feeling like a seventh grader caught sneaking a kiss behind an open locker door. “Fine, yeah, we’ll all be fine someday.” He strode out of the room without a look back at the woman who used to be his wife.