Chapter Three

Jake drove out to Interstate 5, going north to the diner a half hour away. Lisa sat huddled against the door, staring through the rain-streaked windows. She still wore the too big coat Jake had lent her the night before.

Lisa said nothing before they left the motel room, but she showered and brushed her hair out before pulling it back into a ponytail. Jake glanced at her now and then, hoping she would smile or say something - she didn’t.

The rain came down hard, increasing with the old pickup’s speed. Cows and horses grazed in the lush green fields alongside the highway. Lisa didn’t turn her head to look closer, she just let everything pass her by. Jake reached down to the radio, adjusting the station to something country.

“I hope you like old country songs. I can’t stand the new stuff,” he said. “My daddy felt the same way.” He dug into his back pocket, retrieving his can of tobacco. “I think maybe it’s that way with every generation,” Jake laughed, stuffing his lip. He didn’t turn to see if Lisa had a response. He already knew she didn’t.

Jake sang along quietly to some songs, tapping his thumbs on the worn and cracked steering wheel. Occasionally, he would ask Lisa a question. Jake was no therapist, but it felt right to keep her included in conversation even if she didn’t respond. He wanted her to know that he cared, and that it was okay to be quiet sometimes. When his mom divorced his dad and ripped him out of their lives, he refused to talk to anyone for a week.

“Yeah, boy! I can smell the bacon already!” He whooped, smacking his hand on the wheel. Lisa turned, looking at him with a confused expression. Jake noticed and smiled, pointing down the hill at the old truck stop. “There, we gonna get some coffee, eggs and hash browns..” Jake rambled on about breakfast, downshifting when they got closer to the exit for the diner.

The pickup backfired, rattling the exhaust as they slowed to a stop at the intersection. “Gotta rebuild this old girl someday,” he said, patting the dashboard. “I damn near ran her ragged just driving her out from Nevada.” He gunned the throttle, waving a thanks to a trucker that flashed Jake to get out of his way.

Lisa looked at him, listening to Jake talk about the pickup; he pretended not to notice. Jake whipped the truck into a parking spot, turning the engine off before bolting from the cab. He ran to Lisa’s door, ripping it open and scooping her up in his arms. She let out a yelp, surprised at his enthusiasm for extracting her from the truck like that. He kicked the door closed with his boot and carried her through the front door into the diner. Jake set her on her feet as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Boy, I wish someone would carry me out of the rain for breakfast like that,” said an old man at the bar. The surrounding room broke out into laughter while Jake shook the water from his shaggy brown hair. “Might hurt my back, old timer,” Jake said, laughing.

He looked down at Lisa. She was blushing, but not smiling. “Can I get y'all a booth or a table?” the hostess asked.

Jake looked down at Lisa, she was looking out of the large windows that lined the wall. “A booth, please,” Jake said.

They got seated, and Jake ordered them two coffees. Lisa didn’t vocalize her choice, but she did nod when Jake mentioned it. “Are you going to talk today?” he asked. “It’s fine if you don't, but I do like the sound of your voice.”

Lisa blushed, hiding her face behind her hand, propping an elbow on the edge of the table. She looked at the open menu before her, but said nothing. Jake shrugged and sipped his coffee. He thought about the calls he had to make that day.

They needed a large dumpster for all the garbage and construction waste at the house. He had to call an overhead door company to replace the missing shop door. Then he needed estimates for all of the construction that needed to be done.

Their server arrived, taking their orders. Lisa pointed to her selection, only speaking long enough to answer what kind of toast she wanted, and how she’d like her eggs.

—--------------------------------------------

She ate some of her food, but most was left behind. Luckily, she shared a table with a man who thought of breakfast food as the secret to a long life. Jake happily finished her meal, but encouraged her to eat a few more bites of egg. He knew she needed to put some weight back on; doctor's orders.

Back to Walmart. This time it was an hour's drive south. Jake called the sheriff to fill him in on their plans for the day. It wasn’t exactly necessary, but Lisa was still a minor in his care. He didn’t need the law bending him over in court over a misunderstanding.

He didn’t tell Lisa where they were headed, and she didn’t ask. The rain let up long enough for the sun to shine through. It blasted through the windshield, making Lisa’s dark hair shine with its light. Jake admired her just long enough for the pickup to hit the rumble strip on the shoulder.

He jerked the wheel back, watching the road again. “You sure are beautiful,” he said. “Gonna have to make you wear a bag on yer head before I wreck the truck,” he joked. He wanted some kind of reaction. Something to tell him she was okay.

Lisa turned to look at him with her neutral, blank expression. She looked him up and down, then returned her gaze to the side window. She didn’t really know what to feel today. Her mind seemed neutral, just coasting along. Her senses worked, and her feelings felt bruised. Lisa felt, for the first time in years.

She cried when her mind dredged up a memory and felt anger inside when another hurtful thought passed. ‘Processing emotions - are these memories that I buried?’ she thought. ‘Where are we going?’

Jake shrugged, allowing Lisa to focus on whatever it was she was thinking about. He scanned through the stations, finally settling on some classic rock. The old engine growled as it climbed the hills, popping and chugging down the slopes on the other side, until they swung into the Walmart.

Lisa looked at Jake when he shut the engine down and unclipped his seatbelt. Her eyes were wide. It was clear she didn’t want to be here. Jake smiled and stepped out of the truck, slamming his door. She watched him through the windshield as he walked to a cart corral and wheeled it over to her side of the truck.

“C’mon,” he said. He held the door open with one hand, and the cart in the other.

Lisa shook her head, pulling her seatbelt tighter. She leaned out, grabbing the door handle, trying to pull it closed. Jake shook his head, but he didn’t smile or look happy.

“No, you need more clothes. You can’t just wear two outfits your entire life, you need night clothes an a sweater or something.” He spit his tobacco out on the ground behind him. “Now let’s go. You can get whatever you want.”

Her eyes got bigger, her lips parting, wanting to say something. Jake watched her patiently and adjusted the white cowboy hat on his head. She closed her mouth again, but spoke quietly when Jake caught her gaze.

“Can I get a book?” she asked.

Jake leaned in close to hear her tiny squeak of a request. “A book? Course you can, Lisa,” he replied. He rubbed the thickening hair on his chin. “You gonna get out, or are we gonna sit here all day?”

She hesitated, shifting her gaze to the driver's side window where she could watch the crowd of people filing into the store. Lisa shook her head, eyes watering. She turned to Jake, pleading with him silently.

He nodded once. “Alright, we’ll do it my way.” He leaned in and over her, unbuckling her seatbelt. Arms under her knees and behind her back, he lifted her out and into the basket of the shopping cart. “Perfect!” He slammed her door and adjusted his hat again, humming while he pushed the cart towards the store.

—---------------------------------

He held clothes up, all various sizes, colors and types. Lisa would nod or look away, with the obvious action meaning she wanted it. He couldn’t get her to try anything on, so he made a mental note to keep the receipt, just in case.

They found her some sandals, but skipped socks and undies since she already had some. She reached out when they passed by the bras. Jake stopped long enough for Lisa to grab a training bra. It wouldn't offer her any support, but what the hell did he know? That was her business.

In the book aisle, she stood, allowing Jake to lift her out of the cart. She browsed the selections, finally settling on some kind of self-help book. She looked at him when she picked it up, and Jake averted his eyes, pretending to browse the coloring books. A self-help book, some fiction and two cookbooks, and they were ready to leave.

“I wanna get you some proper footwear and a nice coat. Is that alright with you?” he asked. The cart rested against the pickup while he tied the bags closed, setting them in the diamond plate toolbox behind the cab.

Lisa nodded, her ponytail bobbing and blowing in the breeze. She didn’t look at him, but he was happy that she was at least paying attention. He opened her door and waited for her to buckle up before closing it.

They were cruising down the road when Lisa eventually spoke, breaking the silence. “Thank you, Jake.”

He nodded, but realized she wasn’t looking at him. “You deserve it. I’m happy to help.” Then he caught what he was saying and looked at her again. She didn’t even turn her head.

‘Shit, did that sound like I was interested in her? I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.’

He coughed, clearing his throat. “Your birthday is coming up, so I figured we could get a head start on everything.”

She removed her attention from the window, eyes full of tears.

‘Ah, fucking hell,’ he thought. ‘She already read into my last comment.’

“Lisa, what’s the matter? I didn’t mean to say anything wrong,” he said.

“I don’t need anything for my birthday. I already know you’re going to kick me to the curb when I turn eighteen. That’s why you’re getting me things, to be ready,” she cried. “I been abandoned once, Jake. You can keep everything you just bought. I don’t need it.”

“What? No, that ain’t even close to the truth,” Jake said. He pulled off on the next exit, listening to Lisa cry softly into her hands. He pulled up to the farm and feed country store, killing the engine. “Lisa,” he said, placing a hand on her knee. “I’d never kick you out, okay?”

She sniffed, wiping her face with a couple of fast food napkins. “Promise?”

“Baby, you can bet on it. I’d never do that to you,” he said. Then he mentally smacked himself.

‘Baby? You’re fucking up, Jake!’

“Why did you call me that?” Lisa asked. She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and excitement. “I’m not your baby.”

“I know, I was - I just hate seeing you upset. It’s like, you know.” He looked away, trying to figure out what to say. “I’m, uh. We should get inside before they close,” he said.

The high noon sun finally burned off the thinning clouds and caused the water on the asphalt to steam.

Lisa stepped out on her own, watching Jake with a fixed stare. She noticed he got uncomfortable whenever he realized he was showing too much affection - or too much in his mind.

His behavior didn’t creep her out. It was cute, the way he acted when he thought nobody else was looking. Seeing this side of Jake that nobody else got to see was a treat - exciting.

The way he stammered when she asked him about the pet name, and the way he changed the subject; it was adorable. As the day wore on, her mental lockdown lifted. Was it because of Jake? She didn’t know, but the uplifting, caring attitude of the man caring for her was intoxicating.

—-------------------------------

A pair of square toe boots and a Carhart coat later, Jake could finally have his own back. Lisa gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek when she slid her new boots on in the pickup. She didn’t talk, but her shining eyes told Jake she was thrilled.

“They’ll relax and break in the more you wear them. Pretty soon you’ll hate wearing anything else,” he said. “I know they feel tight, but that’s the new stitching and leather.”

She had nothing as nice as them before. Hell, everything Jake bought her was nicer than anything she’s ever had. She saw the price tag on the boots - expensive. The coat was the same!

“Thank you,” she said.

“Yup,” he said. “No problem.”

Lisa knew why he was talking less. ‘He doesn’t want to say another pet name, I'm pretty sure.’ She looked at the man in the truck with her. The more she heard him talk and interacted with him; the more she saw healed scars. Not physically, like on his body - but in his eyes and with his actions. ‘Something’s there. Is that why he knows almost exactly what to do? He doesn’t push me. Well, only when he has to.’

She looked away when he pulled into a McDonald’s for lunch. He didn’t ask what she wanted, ordering multiple burgers, nuggets, and fries. He backed into a spot at the rear of the lot, shutting the engine off and removing his seatbelt.

“You wanna eat in here, or sit on the tailgate?” He asked, gesturing behind them with his thumb.

She responded by flinging her belt off and walking to the rear of the truck. Jake snatched up the two large bags of food and the soda to follow her. He lifted Lisa up onto the tailgate before digging into the bag.

The smell of the freshly cooked fries made her mouth water like a faucet. Jake stood next to her, lining everything up onto the cold steel tailgate. He pulled a sleeve of fries out and went to lay them next to the nuggets, but it disappeared from his hand. He looked up to see Lisa nibbling away on a fry, a little smirk on her face.

She giggled, feet swinging back and forth below her while she chewed. “You little..,” Jake said. He stepped sideways, standing between her legs. “Those are mine, you little thief.”

Lisa shook her head, leaning away from him, still giggling. Jake leaned forward, putting an arm behind her back and pulling her to him. Her butt slid forward on the tailgate, stopping when her body met his, standing in front of her.

“Gimme those,” he said. He reached over to where she held them out, but she kept them just out of reach.

She laughed, putting them behind her back to grab with her other hand. Jake put his other hand behind her, both hands now around Lisa. He smiled, now able to grab his stolen food. Lisa squealed, realizing she lost the fight for the fresh fries. She looked up into Jake's eyes, holding his gaze. He leaned forward to look behind her back and heard her sigh.

The top of her head met his chest, her arms shot around his neck. Jake momentarily forgot what he was doing when she pulled him down and kissed his cheek. He pulled her closer, pressing her into his belt buckle. He leaned down and kissed her soft neck.

“Mmhm,” she hummed. “Jake, stop.”

He snapped to his senses and stood, releasing her. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

Lisa opened her mouth and stammered. “No, it’s fine. It’s just, the napkins are blowing away,” she said, gesturing with a fry.

“Okay, I thought,” he started. “Hey, you still have my fries!”

—------------------------------------------------------

Jake made a few calls while they ate, trying to get some names of a few reputable contractors. He ordered the dumpster first, since he and Lisa would start hauling garbage on their own. In between calls, he tried to figure out why the fuck he kissed Lisa’s neck.

‘Did she trick me?’ He typed the sheriff’s number into his phone. ‘I think she kissed me first. Why did I take advantage of her?’ Jake paused before he hit the call button. He had to give Lisa her space before they hurt each other. He was supposed to help her, not kiss her neck and hold her on the back of his pickup. ‘I’m such a piece of shit,’ he thought.

“Hey, Jake! Nice to hear from you again. How’s Lisa?” he asked.

“Good, sheriff. She’s eating my french fries while I watch,” he said.

Lisa smiled and continued her nibbling, feet still swinging below her.

Jake leaned back on the edge of the tailgate, hooking his thumb in a belt loop. “Just wanted to let you know that she’s kind of out of her funk from this morning.”

“Ah, good deal. I was thinking maybe we should get her in to see a therapist. She’s been through a lot, Jake,” said John. “And you know how women are. Never hungry until you want to eat yer own food.”

He closed his eyes, thinking back to how he kissed her. He felt worse hearing sheriff John’s words.

“Yeah, she has. I don’t know if a therapist is something she want’s.” He looked at Lisa when he said this. She shook her head, munching on a nugget. “She’s giving me a no.”

“Well, tell her the option is there. I’m willing to set her up, she don’t need to pay nuthin,” John said. He coughed and continued. “An tell her that Miss Ellie is baking her a birthday cake. You know, she’s got that place downtown with the fancy cupcakes and such.”

“You’re on speaker phone. She heard that,” Jake said.

Lisa swallowed her bite and leaned forward. “Tell her thank you, sheriff. I ain’t met her yet.”

“You can thank her yourself, Miss Lisa. She’s having us over at her bakery on your birthday.”

—-------------------------------------------------------

Jake grabbed the multiple shopping bags from the pickup and walked to Lisa’s motel room door, setting them on the bench out front. She was in a foul mood again, refusing to talk, just like this morning. He turned, still standing at her door, waving for Lisa to join him. She hung her head and exited the pickup.

“What's wrong? You don’t want to try your new clothes on?” asked Jake. He noticed the shift in her mood the closer they got to the motel. “I’ll carry your bags in for you and everything. It’s no problem.”

“No, just leave them. I’ll manage it myself,” Lisa muttered. She pushed by him and jammed the key into the doorknob. “Go on, I’ll just put them away.”

She turned the knob, pushing the door open. Jake grabbed the bags and followed her in, ignoring her comments. Lisa noticed and pushed him back. “I said leave it, Jake. I’m fine, okay?”

Jake dropped the bags at the door and stepped back through the threshold. “Okay,” he replied, holding his hands up. “It’s just that you seem down. I only wanna help.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “You could help by noticing shit, but you can’t do that!” She slammed the door shut, the window shaking in its frame.

“What the hell?” He said to the door. “Okay. I’ll just go, then!” Jake fished his keys from his pocket and jumped in his truck. “Fucking women, can’t talk straight.”

He left, shooting down the road to the bar. If he couldn’t help Lisa, then he’d just have a few beers at the watering hole. His patience was wearing thin today, and he really didn’t need any mind games today. Yeah, Lisa needed help, but Jake couldn’t just drain his mental well being for her.

Lisa sat on the floor, leaning back against the door. She liked Jake, loved him. When he held her this morning, holding her while she cried, she felt safe for the first time in her life. He didn’t judge her or ask what the problem was, and that’s exactly what she needed.

He took control and did everything almost perfectly, letting her sort her thoughts and feel her emotions. He bought her a whole new wardrobe, spent so much money on her. Lisa felt like her life was taking a turn in the right direction. Yet, she felt horrible. He was here to build his life, expand his business, and she was getting in the way by being a helpless, selfish mess.

‘I’m such a freaking loser,’ she thought. ‘He’s too good for me. He doesn’t even want me. I’m just a charity project for him.’ She leaned forward, tearing the coat and shirt from her body, throwing it across the floor. ‘Look at yourself! Skinny and ugly, like a fucking freak!’ She grabbed her chest and held her stomach. ‘I can’t even grow tits properly!’

She stood, kicking the boots off. One flew across the room, smashing into a lamp by the bed. She pulled her leggings off, followed by her underwear. “I’m a fucking mess!” she screamed. “I should have stayed in that room and fucking died!”

She fell to the floor, feeling the rough carpet against her skin. Crying and pounding the floor with her fists, Lisa screamed into the floor. She imagined Jake holding her again in bed, gently stroking her back with his fingers. Jake, pulling her against him on the tailgate of his truck, kissing her neck. “I want you,” she cried. “Come back.”

Jake climbed onto a barstool and ordered a whiskey. The place was decent, if you count dark and loud as a good place to find the bottom of a bottle. He ordered two shots and a beer, telling the bartender to keep them coming.

‘The fuck does Lisa need from me?’ he thought. ‘She needs professional help, not some truck driver with personal issues.’

He grabbed his beer and stood, holding onto the bar to keep the floor from smacking his face. The bartender stopped pouring the shots after the second round, but Jake failed to notice. Walking to the far end of the room, he placed his drink on the bar to use the restroom. About four steps from the swinging door with the men’s room placard, he fell.

Someone screamed behind him, and he turned to see what the fuss was about.

Two men rushed over, grabbing him under the shoulders. “Easy, buddy. Just relax, you had an accident,” someone said. Jake looked down, seeing that he pissed himself.

“Yeah, guess I did,” he slurred. “Fuck hit me?”

The sound of a chair being drug across the floor caught his ear, and he was soon sitting in it. Another person pressed a cold, wet cloth against his face. He tried to pull away, but a large hand grabbed the back of his head. “Easy, I said. You’re bleeding pretty good there.”

He closed his eyes, allowing the person to hold his head. ‘Who the fuck hit me?’ he thought. ‘I was just going to piss.’ Before long, Jake passed out in the chair.

—-------------------

Lisa woke to the sound of tires crushing gravel outside. Two sets of headlights lit up her curtains, and the sound of two men talking and slamming car doors was heard. She sat up in her bed and pulled her pajama top on.

Peeking between the curtains, she saw Sheriff John and another man with Jake between them. Each had a hand under Jake's arm, dragging him over to his room. The sheriff dug into Jake's pockets, finally removing the room key.

Lisa slipped her sandals on and yanked her door open. “Hey, sheriff? What’s wrong with Jake?” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice. She was unsuccessful.

John looked up, eyes landing on the girl standing there in her thin night clothes.

“Oh, Lisa. He got in a fight with the floor down at the tavern. Come open this door, will ya?” He winced and groaned under the weight of Jake's limp form. “Bastard’s a lot heavier than he looks.”

“Ya got that right, Sheriff,” the other guy grumbled.

Lisa rushed over and took the key from his fingers, working the key in the lock. She pushed it open and stepped back, allowing the two men to heft Jake through the door and onto his bed.

“That’s where he’s been this whole time?” she asked.

The man helping the sheriff exhaled heavily and removed his hat, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. “Yep, ‘fraid so, miss. Ol’ boy sat down an’ drank near an entire bottle to ‘imself. Fell when he stumbled across the room ta piss.”

Sheriff John positioned Jake on his side and placed a trashcan by the side of the bed. “He’s gonna feel like shit in the mornin’. I’ll be over to check on you two. Best if you stay here with him, Lisa. He’ll choke and suffocate on his own vomit if he doesn’t wake up.”

Lisa placed her head in her hands, running her fingers through her hair. “Okay, I guess nobody else will do it. Why not?” A flutter of excitement filled her stomach. She tried her best to keep her face as neutral as she could.

She sat on the bed by Jake’s head, peering down at a large cut on his forehead above the right eye. Two butterfly bandages held it closed, but it was dirty. “You didn’t take him to the Doc’s first?”

“Nah, they closed until mornin’,” the guy said. “He good ‘till then.”

Lisa rolled her eyes and stood, marching around the bed to Jake’s suitcase. She looked at it, but washed her hands first; she knew infection was a real thing. Sheriff John and the guy watched while she dug through his stuff, eventually finding the shopping bag with the medical supplies.

“Hey, guy. Get a clean wash rag and soak it for me, please.”

John looked at her with surprise, because Lisa had never shown this side of herself before. The guy looked between Lisa and John, not knowing if he should do it or not. John waved his hand, ushering him on. He marched to it, grabbing the towel.

“Wash your hands, too,” Lisa said.

She sat by Jake again, setting her things out on the bedside table. The guy handed her the rag, dragging a chair near her to help. John stood by, hands on his hips, watching Lisa with great interest.

She removed the bandages carefully, attempting to avoid further injury. With a cotton ball soaked in alcohol, she wiped the area clean, following it with the wet cloth. The guy hissed, clicking his teeth.

“Boy, sho’ good he out of it - that’d sting,” the guy said.

Lisa laughed, still focusing on the task. “Yeah, he hates needles. If he knew what was going on, you’d have to hold him down.”

“Wait, how do you know this?” asked John. He bent down, trying to catch her eye.

“I sewed his head shut. Remember the bear attack the other day?” she asked.

“No shit. He let you do that?” The guy asked.

“Not at first, he threw a fit and passed out drunk right after,” Lisa answered.

She opened the sterile pack of sutures and pulled one out, the curved needle glinting in the lamplight.

“Aw, hell naw,” the guy said. “Naw, that’s messed up.” He removed his hat again, patting his forehead with his hanky. “You really gon’ stitch yer man up right here?”

Lisa’s stomach flipped at those words. ‘Your man.’

“Done it before - I’ll do it again,” she answered. She felt the sheriff’s eyes on her back, but she had a good excuse not to look at him right now. “Be ready to grab him if he moves.”

He didn’t. He groaned and rolled over on his back, only making the job easier. Lisa tucked the needle into the paper wrapping to dispose of later. After applying some antibiotic gel and a bandaid, Sheriff John gently patted her back.

“Great job, Lisa. Have him shower in the morning. I’ll bring breakfast.” He helped her roll Jake onto his side again and turned to leave. “Junior, leave his keys and phone on the - ah, nevermind.” They were already sitting on the dresser by the TV.

The two men wished her luck, closing the door behind them. Lisa jammed two pillows behind Jake, preventing him from rolling on his back again. She then grabbed her room key and dashed next door, bringing all her things over. Clothes, food, and water - she then dropped her key in the checkout box at the front office.

—------------------------------------------------

Loud, wet, chunky sounding splashes woke Lisa, followed by the foul smell of stomach acid. She only hoped that everything actually made it into the trash can; cleaning puke wasn’t her ideal task. Another round of wet sickness assaulted her senses before Jake flopped back on the bed.

“Did you make the trash can?” Lisa asked.

“Uh-huh,” he moaned. “Wait, what the fuck?”

He lifted his arm, turning his head slightly to see Lisa laying in bed next to him. She held the covers to her nose, blinking those hazel eyes at him. She lowered the blanket and smiled, enjoying his look of surprise and discomfort.

“How’s your head feeling?” she asked. “You got three stitches last night.”

“Oh, everything hurts. What do you mean stitches?” he moaned, touching his face. “Ah, fuck!”

“I think that’s my best work - you’re giving me plenty of practice.” She said, giggling.

Jake slowly sat up, grunting and groaning. Again, he turned his head to squint at her, but said nothing. “I’m taking a bath, maybe drown myself to end the pain.”

“Good, at least you’ll drink some water,” Lisa said. Then she had a thought and jumped out of bed. She walked over to the sink where she had organized everything last night, giving everything a spot. She opened the bottle of aspirin, shaking two tablets into her hand. “Here, take these with water.”

Jake watched all of this, eyes opening wide, when he saw Lisa climb out of bed. Her tiny, panty-clad ass jiggling ever so slightly while she walked to the counter. She appeared to not notice that she forgot to put her bottoms on.

He stared, not recognizing the words she was saying. His tormented head was too fucked to process everything going on in front of him. When he didn’t take the tablets, she bent down and popped the pills into his open mouth.

“Water, Jake. You need to drink some water, okay?” she said.

He grabbed a bottle from the fridge and cracked it open, still watching the slight figure in his room. “I’m - gonna take a bath,” he said. Jake then walked into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him.

Lisa put a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating a million miles an hour. She jumped into the bed, pulling the blankets up to cover her mouth, and squealed into them. She was so thrilled! “Oh - my gosh! He stared, he likes me!” she said.

She had stayed up half the night, organizing everything in the room. Their clothes found a home in the large dresser, and all bathroom and medicine supplies were lined up on the counter by the sink. The food things were on the table, and she had cleaned their mini fridge out and stocked it properly.

Jake hadn’t noticed, but then again, he was distracted by multiple things at once. Lisa heard the familiar sound of tires on gravel and jumped out of bed. She snatched her bottoms off the chair by the table, sliding them on just as the door rattled.

“Sheriff, open up!”

Lisa rolled her eyes and opened the door. “Hardy, harr. Morning, John.”

He held out two drink carriers. “Here, take these, please. I’ve got the foodstuff in the cruiser.”

She placed the carriers on the table, counting six large coffee cups. “Holy cow, sheriff! How many of us you planning on feeding?”

John came in, closing the door behind him. “Well, I figured you an’ Jake had a rough night, so I bought extra.” He dug into the bags, removing a stack of bagels and cream cheese, and eggs. The other bag contained sliced tomatoes and bacon. “Miss Ellie threw together some sandwich fixin’s.”

Lisa smiled and nudged John’s arm. “Second time you’ve mentioned her, sheriff. You visit her a lot?”

He reddened, spluttering, trying to find his words. “I eat - I mean, she’s a wonderful cook, you know.”

“I get it,” Lisa said in a soft tone. “I kinda feel the same way about someone.”

John straightened, looking Lisa in the eyes. “You sure you ain’t just havin’ security feelings? You know, self-preservation kind of stuff?”

Lisa shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. He’s sweet, and you should see him when he’s not trying to be serious.” She played with a strand of hair, twirling it around her finger. “But it’s not mutual. He’s trying to keep me away.”

“I should hope so. You’re just a child.” John said to her, "You need to focus on yourself. You got healin’ to do. Think about that.”

“But I am!” she whined, stamping her foot. “I’ve been thinking, but it’s hard. There's so many emotions, and poor memories. I can’t think about it too much or I get lost.”

John nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “That’s the quiet mood from yesterday, right?”

Lisa nodded, staring off at nothing. “It feels like I’m not me. Like I’m just watching myself from behind a window. It’s like I’m in my head, and my eyes are enormous windows. I just sit there and watch, not even in control. Does that make sense?”

“Disassociation - sign of depression. I ain’t a doctor, but you may want to see one,” he said. “Do you ever think about hurtin’ yerself?” He removed a cup from the cardboard holder and passed it to her.

She tilted her head down, flicking her eyes up at him. “I did, before. I was starving myself,” she said, almost whispering. “But not now. I’m eating and stuff.”

John nodded, observing her. She picked at the paper seam that ran vertically up the side of the cup. “Alright, fair answer. But please, never consider self harm again.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re too precious.”

She looked up, smiling. “Okay.”

The bathroom door opened, bringing with it a cloud of soap-scented steam. Jake exited wearing nothing but a towel. He walked to his suitcase, only to find it empty. Jake looked at the surrounding floor, as if his clothes were hiding from him.

“Lisa, where are my clothes?” He asked, looking up. “Oh, hey sheriff.”

John lifted his cup at him. “Jake, mornin.”

Lisa smiled, walking to the dresser next to Jake. She tapped the top drawer. “Socks and undies, then shirts and pants,” she said, pointing further down. “Yours are on the right, mine on the left.”

“Wait, you moved in?” he asked, glancing at the sheriff. “I didn’t tell her to, I swear.”

“Hey, don’t look at him. You talk to me, okay?” Lisa said, pointing at her eyes. “I moved in because you don’t get clues, and somehow need stitches every other day.”

Jake looked past her at the sheriff, who sipped his coffee and observed the plaster patterns on the ceiling. He looked back at the tiny, irritated female in front of him. “Clues?” he asked. His head still throbbed, and his eyebrow stung like hell.

“Just get dressed. John brought us breakfast,” Lisa said. She opened the top drawer as if to prove his clothes hadn’t run away before returning to the table.

Lisa took her shower after breakfast, leaving John and Jake to talk. John shared with Jake what Lisa had said about feeling detached from her body when she got lost in her thoughts.

“That makes sense. I don’t know all what happened to her, or around her. But I can tell she’s got a lot to process,” Jake said. “She’s a tough little one, ain’t she?”

“You don’t even know the half of it, Jake.” John sipped his coffee, thinking. “It ain’t for me to tell, but I will say drugs and various types of assault were involved.”

Jake shook his head, chewing his food. “Could explain how she gets so lost in her head sometimes.”

“Just keep an eye on her. You already know about her weight. Well, she admitted that some of it was intentional.” John gave Jake a sideways look. “I don’t think we need to say much more on that subject.”

Jake nodded. “What about her moving in here with me? I ain’t even touching her, John. She had her own room yesterday when I -”

John held up a hand. “I know. She came from it when we drug your ass home last night. She must have moved in while you slept off that bottle you drank dry.” John stared at him, looked Jake in the eyes. “Lisa likes you - don’t lead her on if you don’t feel the same way.” With that, he stood and opened the door. “See you at Ellie's place tomorrow, 1 o’clock.”

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