Forgetting Jane

by C. J. Warrant

  As she stepped away from the light post, Tom pulled up next to her.

  “What’s up, Caroline?”

  “What do you want, Tom? I’m in no mood for your sweet talking crap tonight.”

  “Ahh. Did Eli hurt your feelings?” Tom said in a girly voice, pushing his bottom lip out. “So jail didn’t agree with you?”

  “You are an asshole too. All the men in this fucking town suck. Leave me alone.” Caroline walked away. She was about to take a step off the curb when Tom almost hit her with the front of the squad. “Hey! Bastard, you almost hit me! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You shouldn’t swear, Caroline. Nice girls don’t talk that way.”

  “Who said I was a nice girl?” Caroline stepped back to see Tom’s big grin.

  “Get in the car, Caroline. I’ll drive you home.”

  “No way. Not when you almost ran me over. Besides, I’m going to the hospital.”

  “Don’t lie to me. You are heading in the wrong direction. I know where you live. Come on, if you want, I’ll drive you to the hospital. Get in. Your legs are going to hurt from the walk and it’s too cold and dark outside.”

  As if on cue, the wind whooshed past her. It made Caroline shudder more. She looked at the deputy, then at the dark road ahead. Her trailer was located at the other end of town, much farther than the hospital.

  “Ok,” she conceded, sounding like a pouty child, and got into the squad.

  She could feel the heat from the vents blowing on her cold skin. “Mmm. This feels so good.” She rubbed her hands in the air stream.

  “See, if people would listen to me more often, they would be a lot happier,” Tom said, increasing the heat and the blower.

  “Thanks, Tom, for driving me home.”

  “You are welcome.” He put the car in gear and took off toward Caroline’s trailer. “Are you warm yet?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” Caroline said.

  Silence filled the cab space. She had never seen the inside of a squad before. She swore Tom had every known gadget in the vehicle.

  Caroline looked over and noticed Tom watching her.

  “What?” she asked, rubbing her hands together.

  “I was wondering, how was your overnight at the station?” He chuckled.

  “That isn’t funny, Tom. That bastard embarrassed me in front of my friends and co-workers. All I wanted to do was to show my love for him and he throws me in jail,” she whined.

  “Caroline, you have to understand that Eli is a no parking zone. He doesn’t want you.”

  “Fuck you, Tom—

  “Wait a minute.” He slowed the car down. “There is no need to be hostile with me. I am only telling you the truth,” Tom said with a growl.

  Caroline was instantly contrite. “Sorry, Tom.” She wiped away the tears and noticed the dark smudge on her fingertips. “Damn, I must look like death right now. My mascara is down to my cheekbones.

  “You look fine. I know you are distraught over the whole being thrown in jail,” he said as he pulled up to her trailer. “I want what’s best for you. Eli isn’t the best.”

  “Thanks again.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. She opened the passenger door, got out and closed it right away.

  “You are welcome,” Tom said with a grin.

  Caroline reached her trailer door, turned and watched Tom drive off. His rear lights disappeared in the dark.

  Whistles of the wind through the adjacent trees and nearby cornfields made her skin crawl. She hated living next to the woods. She hated the country since she was a child. Too dark, and eerie for her cup of tea. The city was where she wanted to be.

  Caroline bent over, pulled up the welcome mat and grabbed the extra house key. With the click of the flimsy lock, she opened the door and entered the trailer.

  Inside was as black as outside. She wished she had left the light on in the kitchen. Blind, she felt the paneled wall for the switch by the compact kitchen.

  She flipped it on, casting a soft glow of light into the living room.

  Her breath rushed out with relief and dropped herself into the black leather loveseat. She wanted to get the fuck out of there and fast. For good this time.

  As she leaned back and closed her eyes, the light flashed off. Panic surged up in Caroline’s chest, which choked her. She froze as the front door slowly opened and the dark frame of a person stood in the doorway. Her scream pierced the cold air.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jane woke up and found Eli wasn’t in bed. He’d left without waking her, which left her feeling slightly abandoned. She grabbed his pillow and inhaled. His scent filled her with the rush of euphoria. Her body tingled as she remembered their lovemaking.

  Staying away from Eli was out of the question now. She not only craved his body, Jane yearned to talk to him. He made her whole, even without her memories.

  Funny how she had hated the man and now she was afraid she’d never see him again.

  Damn. She was falling hard for him but wasn’t sure if was the right thing. Brushing off the worry, she got dressed and headed downstairs. Jane couldn’t sleep anymore.

  She crept quietly so not to wake Magda in the bedroom off the kitchen. With every creaky step, she stopped and listened. Poor Magda. Jane worried for her.

  Jane made her way over to the picture window and cracked open the curtains. The dawn had not peeked over of the horizon yet. The night was still dominant. Slightly fuddled in the brain with sleep, Jane withdrew from the window, yawned and stretched out her arms.

  Maybe a walk could clear her head, but Eli’s warning stalled her from stepping outside. Besides, her head had become more sensitive the moment Magda removed the staples. Exposing her Texas-sized scar to the cold temperature could lead to severe pain, and she’d had enough of that.

  She glanced up at the wall clock; it read four thirty-five. Jane wandered around the first floor until the yen for coffee called out to her. She wasn’t quite sure if she remembered how it was made. How hard could it be? Magda made it look easy.

  She entered the kitchen with a new set of purpose. As she approached the sink, a dark figure stood outside the window, looking in—a black silhouette against the black backdrop. She let out a yelp and hid beside the refrigerator, out of sight.

  Jane clutched at her flannel shirt, her heart jack-hammering against her ribcage. She became slightly lightheaded and leaned against the appliance for support. With wobbly legs, and a few deep breaths to calm herself, Jane gathered enough nerve and peeked around the corner.

  No one was there.

  Jane straightened up and slowly walked toward the window with caution. As she stepped closer to the sink, that menacing dark shadow turned out to be the straggly bush stationed outside the window. It swayed side to side from the wind.

  A huge exhaled breath escaped her lungs. She shook off the nervousness and directed her attention to the percolator on the counter. Jane opened the lid and took out the brown basket full of old grounds. This coffee maker had to be quite old.

  Jane dumped the old coffee grounds down the sink, as she had seen Magda do countless times and rinsed the basket. She did the same with the pot and then filled it with cold water. After finding the coffee can in one of the cabinets, she eyeballed how many scoops it needed and preceded to add ten heaping teaspoons. Not too strong.

  She plugged it in and waited. And waited. Standing there was stupid. Jane wanted to keep busy. Looking around the room, there had to be something else to do. Everything was cleaned and put away.

  With her arms folded across her chest, Jane thought.

  She made coffee, so why not breakfast? Breakfast for the chief. A show of appreciation for all he had done for her.

  Being in the kitchen felt natural. Jane swiped the apron off the hook on the back pantry door and looked in the refrigerator for any possible breakfast foods.

  Eggs, milk, bacon and butter were pulled out and placed on the table. She then went into the pantry and retrieved the flou
r off the shelf. Jane sat down in front of the items and stared at the group.

  “Pancakes and bacon sounds good. How hard could it be?” she uttered. Jane couldn’t be more pleased with herself. She had lost her memory, but not her ability to cook.

  As she slid out her chair, a small flicker of hope flashed in her mind that she might be a chef, or a cook of some sort.

  Of course, she could only assume.

  She flowed from the stove to the table with fluidity. She searched for a couple of bowls and found an old cookbook on the lower shelf in the pantry. One teaspoon of salt, another teaspoon of baking soda, a cup of flour, and stir together with some milk. Jane almost forgot the eggs and cracked them into the soupy concoction. After rescuing a few shells from the batter, it looked complete.

  After finding a couple more frying pans in the oven, Jane placed them adjacent to each other on the stovetop. She opened the bacon package and dropped the fatty slices into one pan. While the strips sizzled and popped, she poured the pancake batter into the other.

  Between the bacon and pancakes, she had a rhythmic system of her method. Once she finished with batter, Jane took out the butter and sliced a few pats for the pancakes. She piled them up on a plate in nice neat stacks. With a quick study of the misshapen circles, she was pretty proud of herself of that accomplishment. So what if a few stuck to the bottom of the dark heavy pan.

  “Ouch.” She stepped back and examined the small red welts on her left hand and arm. The splattered grease did a number on her skin. But the welts weren’t so bad. Especially after what she had been through, a few grease burns wouldn’t detour her from her goal.

  Smoke began to fill the kitchen. Jane quickly turned off the burner. She waved the fumes away from her face and scooped up the last of the charred bacon strips and placed them on the plate.

  Fried eggs were the last on her list. She plopped the butter into the pan. Like Magda, she took a spoon and scooped up some of the fat from the bacon and drizzled it over the melting butter.

  “Six should do it.” She smiled as each egg splashed into the grease. “Dang it.” A few shell pieces fell into the eggs. She dragged them out with her spatula and finished the scramble.

  Excitement bubbled through her. Even though she had a couple of burned fingertips and grease splattered along her arms, she made a meal that was fit for a king. Well, maybe for a chief of police. Nonetheless, she was very proud of what she cooked.

  Now all she needed was for Elias to walk through that door and be surprised.

  Jane sat at the table, staring down at her lovely breakfast creation and wondered when he would be home. The eggs were getting cold. Maybe she rushed with breakfast and should have waited until he got there.

  Fifteen minutes had passed before Jane decided to clean up the kitchen. After she covered the cooked food with foil, she returned the butter and eggs into the refrigerator. She washed the pans and put them away, then wiped the grease off the counter and stove.

  The coffee stopped percolating. As she was about to pour herself a cup, Eli strolled in from the back door.

  Jane had an overwhelming urge to run up and kiss the man. Instead, she stayed cool and gave him a smile. “Good morning.” Inside, she was shaking. She was actually giddy.

  ***

  Eli froze in the doorway for a second, staring at Jane dressed in his mother’s purple flowered apron.

  “Coffee?” she asked as she extended the filled cup in her hand.

  “Thanks.” He took the mug and placed it on the counter. He guessed he could wait and tell her about the victim. “You’re up early. Couldn’t sleep?” Eli asked as he shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the back of the chair. He took the cup and sniffed the dark brew.

  “Not really. How’s work?”

  The normality of the moment was so surreal to him. Eli kept staring at her. His life, love and happiness could be entwined in one single woman. She made him see what he could have. But did he deserve it?

  She stood there, hands fidgeting at her sides. Why was she nervous?

  “Are you okay?” Jane’s brows knitted when she asked.

  “What—oh, I’m sorry.” Eli took a sip of the coffee. “Yeah, I’m good,” he choked out. He almost spit out the awful liquid but he was quick enough to swallow it down without cringing.

  “I also made…breakfast.” Jane gushed as she lifted the foil off the plates. “Are you hungry?

  Eli didn’t know how to react. “For me?”

  With flat dark discs that resembled pancakes and charred pieces of what once looked like bacon, Eli smiled at her. He feared what the third plate hid. Please, don’t let it be eggs.

  Sure enough, a mound of yellow and white mess was revealed under the foil. He hated eggs. Though it didn’t matter, he’d eat anything she made for him.

  “Yes, I made it for you. And for Magda too. I wanted to show you my gratitude for keeping me safe and for using your home as a hide out. And…” she didn’t finish. Her face flushed red and her smile was enchanting. Eli noticed her dimples. How could he have missed those? They were only slight but they made her face all the more kissable.

  He reached out, wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down and kissed her. “Thank you.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes,” Eli uttered with enthusiasm but his stomach protested. How bad could it be?

  “Here’s some bacon, a couple of pancakes and some scrambled eggs. They started out as sunny side up but then I broke a few of the yolks as I tried to flip them.”

  She plopped down four small disks of pancakes. Eli swore the plate clinked from the connection. The bacon almost incinerated on contact. But those eggs…yuck. They drooled off the spoon.

  “That’s okay. It looks…great,” he said looking over his morning meal.

  “Well then, dig in.” Jane poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across the table from him.

  “I don’t know where to start.” Eli picked up the burnt bacon and sniffed it. He broke off the piece and popped it into his mouth. “Good.” Hoped the char wouldn’t choke him.

  He took his fork and slowly scooped up a small mound of eggs and put it in his mouth. The moment the salty slimy flavor hit his tongue, his gag reflex started. But he held it down.

  “It’s good. Why aren’t you having any?” Eli coughed.

  “I don’t like eggs. Besides, I’m not hungry anyway. I’ll have the coffee.” She sipped at her cup and quickly placed her cup on the counter, splashing the liquid.

  Her smile pinched tight at him before she gulped what was in her mouth. She shivered. “Mmm. Good coffee.”

  Eli had to wash down the mess in his mouth. He took a large gulp of his coffee. He almost squeezed his nose but forced himself not to. The strong flavor of the dark liquid was bitter but cleared his palate from the heinous egg taste. “You made the coffee too?” That was a stupid question.

  “Yes. How is it?” She laughed. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “Strong. The way I like it.” He cleared his throat from the sharpness.

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize how bad the coffee is. And from the look of green hue on your face, my cooking skills are the same.” She took the plate from him and placed in the sink. “Sorry, I tried,” she said, looking over her shoulder.

  Eli got up from the table and wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s much appreciated though.” He kissed her nose. He couldn’t resist and took her mouth.

  It was soft and gentle. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

  He trailed his lips down her chin and around her jaw line. He nibbled on her neck before asking where Magda was.

  “She’s still sleeping. Elias. You know she told me about her stroke and how you stayed here for her.”

  “It wasn’t only for her,” Eli said. “I’m a…” He couldn’t finish.

  “I know about the alcohol. Magda explained everything to me.” Jane leaned back and kissed him. Her silent approval. She then continued. “What surprises m
e the most about her? She has so much energy.”

  “I know. I tell her to slow down but she doesn’t listen to me. When I leave here—

  “You’re planning on leaving?”

  Eli released her from his arms and stood back. This was his chance to let her know what had happened—come clean about his fucked-up life. And that was reason why he wasn’t good for any relationship.

  “After I escaped this town, I enlisted in the army. With my ASVAB scores, they made me a MP.”

  “I knew that.” She slid in the chair adjacent to him and took his hand. “Magda told me.”

  “I served six years. After I got out, I followed an army buddy to his hometown, Half Moon Bay, California. It’s a beautiful place. Well, through his connections, I was hired on at the police department. I was happy—content. I found a small place right away and started my new life.” Eli took in a deep breath before he continued. “Almost four years ago, my partner and I got a call. Domestic disturbance. When we arrived, it was a husband beating up his wife.”

  Jane’s hand tightened around his fingers. “Go on.”

  He let go of her hand and got up from the table.

  “What happened?” Jane asked. Her voice shook a little.

  That familiar lump lodged in his throat. It hurt to talk. “After we took the husband down, I stayed by the wife’s side until the ambulance got there. She was beaten pretty bad. Broken arm, sprained ankle and a couple of cracked ribs.” Eli’s heart was beating faster with each word spoken. “Her name was Elise. She was twenty-two years old. I could tell from the way she acted, this wasn’t the first time she was beaten. Elise reminded me of my mother. I felt it was my job to protect her. Anyway. She was taken to the hospital and admitted for a week. I came by every day and made sure she was okay. The day she got out…” Eli couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “What happened to her? Elias?” Jane swiped a tear from her cheek.

  He cleared his sore throat. “She asked me to drive her home from the hospital. It was against my better judgment for her to go back to her apartment, but she insisted. I believed she was safe, but that wasn’t the case.” Eli felt the wetness on his face. He was crying. He couldn’t help it. It had been four years since he had spoken about what happened.