Straight from the Heart
Chapter 1
"Brenda!"
he cried out in a panic. "Brenda!"
She was gone.
Her car had disappeared over the edge of the cliff. He dove from the helicopter
cockpit despite the futile protests of his brother, Jerry. Again and again, he
searched for her in the deep, dark blackness of the cold river. There was
nothing, but he continued to dive. Finding nothing, seeing nothing, and yet, he
persisted. She had to be there. She was there, he had to believe that. His
limbs were shaking beyond control, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't. He had to
find her, had to get her back. He felt strong arms grip him around the waist.
Brenda? he thought briefly. But it wasn't. It was a rescue team diver telling
him he had to get out of the water and let them do their jobs. They didn't want
to have to try to save three lives tonight. Leave? Get out of the water? Give
up trying to find her? He didn't understand. How could they expect him to do
that? He tried to dive again, his lungs constricting against the deep breath,
but they stopped him. And suddenly, Jerry was there wrapping a blanket around
him as he stood, soaking wet, watching them try to find her. The rescue officer
approached him carrying something in his hands. It was a white piece of cloth.
He took it silently. It was her shawl, he recognized it from earlier in the
day. No, no, no! Brenda!
"Brenda!"
Jasper Jacks
awoke with a start, sitting straight up in his bed. The sheet was tangled
around his legs and his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He
looked around wildly before recognizing the bedroom. Slowly, he untangled the
sheet from his legs and got up. He went over to the window that framed the west
wall of the room. The glass was cool and he leaned his forehead against it as
one hand involuntarily lifted to touch the stars through the windowpane.
He'd had that
dream again. He had it pretty regularly, sometimes once a night for several
nights in a row. It was always the same. How could it be any different?
Sometimes it was more intense and sometimes he barely felt as if he were
experiencing it. Those were the times that scared him. He could handle the
sweat-soaked sheets and the near-panic experiences, but when he didn't feel
that, he worried. He felt then that maybe he was losing a part of her, of how deeply
she was ingrained in him. He had lost her physically, but losing her from his
heart scared him more than anything in the world. He would never let that
happen.
The nights when
he woke in a panic were always the same, too. He always got up to look at the
stars and look to her for guidance. He knew she was up there, or out there,
somewhere. Instead of speaking to her, he found that it was easier for him to
write his thoughts and feelings into words. This night was no different.
He moved from
the window to the desk alongside the opposite wall. He sat gently in the chair
and opened the middle drawer. Taking out a fountain pen and a few sheets of his
personal stationery, he began to write. Slowly at first, and then gradually
picking up to a quick, steady rate, he wrote. Page after page went by before he
was emotionally drained. He folded the letter carefully and placed it in a
corresponding envelope. He ran a hand through his tousled, blond hair as he
leaned back in the chair. It was always the same thing every time. He always
wrote the letters, feeling the same feelings and thinking the same thoughts.
And he always sealed the letters in an envelope. There was never anyone to read
them, though. There hadn't been since the day he'd started writing them. That had
been nearly three years before.
Jax got up
slowly from the desk and realized how long he'd been sitting there, not only
from the tension in his shoulders, but also from the hints of daylight
beginning to show through the windows. He stretched his arms over his head,
bent over once at the waist, and carefully climbed back into bed. He stared at
the ceiling for a long time until his eyelids became too heavy and he drifted
to sleep.
The sun was
bright in the mid-July sky when he next opened his eyes. It was a Saturday and
he was supposed to be at his brother's house that afternoon. He really didn't
want to go, but he knew it was the only way to stay sane, and he owed his
brother that much. Jerry wouldn't allow Jax to go into a depression over this.
If anyone, Jerry was the one person he admitted to needing help from. His older
brother had been there every day and every night since that painful night. He
had listened to Jax talk about Brenda. He had yelled right back when Jax yelled
about the injustices of her death. And he had waited patiently and without
shame while Jax cried in anguish. For almost three years, Jerry had given all
of his love and support to Jax. Now, it was Jax's turn to give some back to
him. Jerry had someone he wanted Jax to meet and had invited him over for an
afternoon cookout. Jax had never met the woman before.
Before he could
change his mind, he flung the covers off of him and sat up in the bed. He got
up to shower and dress. Thirty minutes later, he looked almost normal in a
green checked button-down shirt and khaki pants with a pair of expensive, but
comfortable brown loafers on his feet. He fixed himself a bowl of oatmeal and
ate it slowly, looking out the kitchen window at the bustling city below him.
He noticed again how different Port Charles looked from this side of town. He
had moved into this penthouse apartment a year and a half ago in an attempt to
escape his darkest moments. It had been Jerry's idea.
Jax had been
mourning the loss of Brenda for almost a year then and he was just beginning to
think the pain was fading away. Then he met her and it forced him back a few
steps, almost into a depression for awhile. Her name was Shannon and he thought
he could learn to love her one day. They dated and flirted off and on for
almost six months when they, and mostly he, decided to make a full-time
commitment to each other. They discussed living together, but never marriage.
She knew part of his story, but there were things he could never tell anyone,
not even her, again. The night he told her that he might be falling in love
with her was the most tragic since the night he lost Brenda. He had taken
Shannon to dinner and even flown her to Manhattan to do it. They'd had a
wonderful meal at the most exclusive of restaurants. He told her over coffee
what he'd brought her there to say. They'd both been ecstatic after that, and
after she admitted that she'd fallen in love with him at first sight. They took
a walk after dinner and their destination eventually became the hotel suite
he'd booked. But they never made it there. A block and a half from the hotel,
they were crossing the street when they heard a horn honk, brakes squeal, and
several yells of warning. Then, all Jax heard was the inevitable sound. And all
he saw was the inevitable sight. And she was gone, gone from his life, just
like Brenda. He was numb for months afterward and he felt nothing. He almost
relished in it, the not feeling. He didn't feel lonely or empty or lost. He
didn't feel anything. Jerry knew he had shut down his emotions, determined to
never open them again.
The day Jerry
prevented Jax from leaving the apartment was the day he found out the whole
story. He had arrived to find Jax mechanically going about his business, with
no feeling, no emotion, nothing whatsoever. He forced Jax to sit down and talk
to him, but Jax denied everything he felt. Half an hour later, Jerry lost it at
him and began to yell. After awhile he noticed Jax hadn't moved or said one
word. Jerry stopped yelling and saw that Jax was staring off into blank space
and tears were streaming unabashedly down his face. And Jax finally broke down.
All his sadness, and anger, and especially guilt came pouring out. He was
responsible for Shannon's death, in his eyes. He had wavered in his loyalty to
Brenda and it had gotten Shannon killed. Jerry tried fiercely to tell Jax he
was wrong, but to no avail. And the dreams returned. Suddenly, Jax no longer
mourned Shannon and his thoughts became consumed with Brenda again. He renewed
his love for her through Shannon's death and vowed never to stray again.
Throughout it all, he had written the letters, nearly every night.
Jerry saw Jax
struggling to find his way and quietly suggested that he move from the
penthouse suite of the Port Charles Hotel. Surprisingly, Jax didn't argue all
that much. Within a month, he was living where he lived now, in another
penthouse, but of a luxury apartment building on the other side of town. Jerry
had thought it was a perfect location since it was closer to his own house. No
one but Jax knew the real reason he had chosen to live there. Not only was it a
four minute drive to it, but from the west window in the bedroom, Jax could see
her home, her cottage in the woods. He owned it, too. He'd bought it when Robin
Scorpio moved out of town and back to Paris a year ago. He didn't want Jerry to
know he owned it, it was a part of her that he needed to have for himself. It
was her home, and one day, when he found the courage, it would be his, too. But
for now, it was empty, exactly as it had been nearly three years ago.
Jax shook his
head to clear it from his reverie. He had someplace to be and he needed to get
there. Deciding to walk the short distance to Jerry's house, he grabbed his
keys and closed the door behind him. He took the elevator down the twenty-eight
floors to the lobby and left the building. He walked slowly, enjoying the cool
breeze coming off the nearby Port Charles River. He was anxious to see who had finally
caught Jerry's eye enough to make him want her to meet Jax. Jerry had been on
precious few dates recently and Jax didn't know where he'd met her or even her
name.
Jax arrived at
Jerry's house twenty minutes early. He knocked loudly on the brownstone's door.
Jerry lived in the same house he'd been in for four years. When he'd found out
that his girlfriend and owner of the house, Bobbie Spencer, was going to be
transferred to another hospital to take over as Head Nurse, he'd let her go and
bought the house from her. He couldn't leave Jax during that time and he had
known by then, after three years of dating, he wasn't going to marry Bobbie.
And so she'd gone, with Lucas, and he owned the entire brownstone now. The
heavy door finally opened and Jerry let Jax into the house. They walked to the
kitchen and Jax sat down on a stool in front of the window to the rest of the
room.
"You're
early," Jerry observed once he'd gone back to cutting tomatoes.
"If you
want, I'll go out and come back in twenty minutes," Jax retorted.
"You could,
then it'll give me time to make myself look pretty for you," Jerry joked.
"I'd have
to be gone too long for you to do that."
Jerry threw a
dishtowel at Jax, laughing. He took a minute to study Jax's face. His brother
looked tired and he had slight circles under his eyes. His complexion was a
little pale and Jerry wondered if he'd slept much last night.
"Stop it,
Jerry," Jax said.
"Stop what?
Cutting my tomatoes? I can't do that, we'll need them-"
"Stop
analyzing me and how I look," Jax interrupted.
"I
wasn't-"
"Yes, you
were," he said succinctly. He didn't say anything else about it. "So
when is this woman getting here? And by the way, Jerry, what's her name?"
"Jennifer.
Her name is Jennifer, and she goes by Jen. She should be here any minute
now."
"What does
she look like?"
"Worried
you won't recognize her? Don't worry, Jax, she'll be the grown woman walking
through that door."
"Cute,
Jerry, real cute. Thanks, you're a big help." Jax stood up and went over to
the back door leading to the patio. There was a table with four comfortable
chairs around it set for four people. Four? Who else would be there? A thought
flashed through his mind. No, Jerry wouldn't dare do that to him. He wouldn't
set-
"Her
daughter, Jax," Jerry broke into his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"I know
what you're thinking and I didn't. I didn't set you up with anyone. She's
bringing her daughter with her. It's kind of a thing where she meets a family
member of mine and I meet a family member of hers."
"You've
never met her daughter before?"
"Nope,"
Jerry shook his head. "All I know is that she's four years old and very
rambunctious from what her mother tells me."
"What's her
name, at least?"
"Curious,
aren't you?"
"I just
want to know what to call her, instead of 'Jen's daughter.'"
"Her name
is-" a loud knock interrupted him. He looked at Jax and grinned.
"I'll let her introduce herself." He went to answer the door.
Jax heard the
door open and a female voice yelling, "Come back here, young lady! Right
now! Come here!" Jax had to laugh. This would be an interesting afternoon.
He heard the door close, and when he didn't hear anyone coming into the
kitchen, he assumed Jerry had gone with her to get her daughter. He turned to
look out the back window and caught a glimpse of a yellow dress as it
disappeared from view just as Jerry and, he again assumed, Jen came to the
backyard. Jax just laughed again. The little girl was good.
Jax had seen
where the girl had gone, so he opened the back door and went to look for her.
Jerry and Jen disappeared to look in front again. He walked around the table
set for lunch and went in the direction he'd seen the little girl go. He looked
under every tree, bush, and shrub in the backyard. Finally, he heard a soft sound
behind him. He turned around to find her standing in the middle of the
backyard, staring at him with wide eyes. Jax smiled in amusement.
"Uh-oh,"
she said in a small voice.
"Hello
there," Jax said as he crossed the distance to her. "You know, I'll
bet you're just the person I was looking for." He knelt down on the ground
in front of her.
She was very
pretty. Her dark brown hair was wavy as it fell past her shoulder and hung down
her back. She had it tied in a small ponytail with a yellow ribbon. Her eyes
were a vivid aquamarine blue and they stood out against her olive complexion.
She was very tanned, as if she spent hours every day in the sun and her skin
was even darker in contrast to the yellow jumper dress she wore. Her feet were
wrapped in a pair of summer sandals that were white and had a bright yellow
flower on each one. She looked adorable as she sized Jax up.
Jax was shocked
by her appearance and was trying not to let it show. She looked exactly as he
had once pictured someone. "So, what's your name?" he asked softly.
He could tell she was hesitant to tell him, so he extended his hand and started
again. "My name is Jax. What's yours?"
She knew what
she was supposed to do and assumed it was alright since he'd said he'd been
looking for her. She gently and lightly put her hand in his and shook it.
"Hi," she said, smiling shyly. "My name is Brenda."
Jax was stunned
into complete silence. It was who he'd pictured in a way. Once, in a dream,
he'd seen his daughter, and she had looked almost exactly like this little
girl, right down to the wide, blue eyes. "Brenda," he whispered, just
as his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground, unconscious.