Tom felt the icy fingers of reality tighten around his heart as he stared at the picture on the page of the magazine in his lap. She had a name: Brenda Barrett. She had a life: model and record executive with her own label, no less. And most importantly of all, she had him: Jasper Jacks - or just "Jax" as he had introduced himself to Tom just a few hours earlier... Had it only been a few hours ago? He thought back to that afternoon, and everything that had happened in the interim, and it seemed like a lifetime ago. And in a way it was - a fantasy lifetime ago.
Tom had been on a natural high when he had met Jax. He had just gotten Ed to not only get his Taurus running as good as new, but also to refund $300 of the exorbitant $1200 he had originally charged him for the transmission work. Ed had said it was because they were "old buddies," but Tom knew it was because Ed was afraid he'd cause more of a ruckus than he already had, and that wouldn't be good for the reputation of Ed's service station. As he had pulled his car out of Ed's one and only service bay, he had caught sight of the sleek, black Harley-Davidson Sportster parked off to the side, with a guy who appeared to be asleep leaning next to it.
Normally he would not have been so forward as to wake the guy, but something had drawn him to the bike and the man. Perhaps it was the fact that he and his partner, John, had seen one of those last year at a cycle show in New York City, and they had both wanted one instantly. But with a starting price of $13,000, and on their meager salaries of $55,000 - and that was before taxes, and pensions, and insurance, and, in his case, alimony - there was no way they would ever be able to do much more than dream about that bike. People like him and John couldn't indulge in such luxuries; their money went for the necessities of life and that was about it. Besides, they had both heard that the waiting period for that particular bike was well over six months, and even then you had to have pull to get one, it seemed. So when he had seen one right there in little Brighton and within a few yards of him, he had to touch it.
But maybe it was more than that...He had totally surprised himself when he had so quickly offered to give Jax a lift. The offer had just "slipped out" without his thinking about it. What were the odds that the owner of that bike would turn out to be connected to his Angel, whom he was just on his way home to? And what were the odds that Tom's offer to drop Jax at the motel would result in their conversation about Tom's plans for a romantic evening with his Angel and Jax's postponed wedding with his absent fiancée, who just so happened to be Tom's Angel, as well. The irony of the whole thing was just too much for Tom.
He ripped the page containing the picture out of the magazine and shoved it in his pocket, then stood and bolted outside. He needed some air and he needed it fast! Suddenly the walls of the Carlisle Urgent Care Center were closing in on him, and he felt like all the breath was being sucked out of his body! He slammed out the doors he had torn through carrying Angel just an hour or so before. She was his Angel then, he thought, and now she's Jax's Brenda. Suddenly he felt sick, and he barely made it to a grassy area just past the parking lot before the remains of his dinner came up to join the remains of his previously shattered dreams of a life and love with Angel.
Dr. Jim Mooney stretched wearily as he sat in the corner of the cubicle charting his physical assessment of the mystery woman, Angel, while impatiently awaiting the results of her blood and urine profiles. He glanced at his watch, and blanched when he saw that it was almost 2:30 am, and realized that he had been up for nearly 24 hours, and he was so tired.
He had his own practice in Carlisle, but he also did shifts here at the clinic to pick up extra cash. Those people who thought all doctors were rich had another think coming! It had cost him over $150,000 for college and med school, and then another $100,000 to set up his practice here in Carlisle, and now his government loans were coming due. But his practice was just getting started, and he was under the gun to come up with some cash and fast, so here he was working another twelve hour shift after having worked eight hours in his own practice. He was so tired, he just wanted to lay down and sleep for a week, but he couldn't. His shift didn't end until 6:00 am, and between now and then he had to make a definitive diagnosis on this patient.
He had gotten very little information from the woman, Angel, whom he was calling "Jane Doe" for all the hospital records. In fact, she said she was not even sure of her name. Jim's curiosity was piqued about this, but since an FBI agent had brought her in, he had at first wondered if perhaps she was in the witness protection program, and that she was not supposed to give out name and address and such. But then she also could not give him her age or any medical history - not even how she had received the rather large, fading bruises on her thighs and on her lower back. And then there was the obvious affection between the agent and her - that was not a normal relationship between a government agent and a witness! And beyond that, there was something so familiar about this woman, but Jim couldn't put his finger on what it was. He usually had a memory for faces - especially faces of extraordinarily beautiful women - but he was just so tired tonight, that he couldn't place where he'd seen her before. But he knew it would come to him eventually, he just needed to get a little rest first.
He had given Angel a quick physical and determined that she was slightly dehydrated, so he had started a glucose IV, after first drawing blood and getting a urine sample. Her heart seemed strong, although her pulse was rapid, and he attributed that to the anemia he suspected she had. Her lungs were clear, which he thought was remarkable since the agent had said she had nearly drowned two weeks before. She was underweight by a good five pounds, and she looked slightly malnourished as well, but that could be easily remedied. He had hoped to do some more extensive tests shortly, but he needed a confirmation from both the blood and urine tests to see if any further tests were even necessary.
"Dr. Mooney?" Jim looked up at the sound of his name to see Jan, one of the 3 RNs who were on tonight, standing at the foot of Angel's gurney. "The lab just sent these up." She handed him the blood and urine profile on "Jane Doe," and waited to see if Jim needed anything else.
Jim scanned the sheets and then looked up at Jan, "Set up for a pelvic, and order an ultrasound as well." After Jan left the cubicle to carry out his orders, Jim turned to Angel and said, "Well, I think I know why you've been feeling so ill...."
Tom had finally pulled himself together, and had gone back inside the clinic. He had gone to the men's room and splashed some cold water on his face and rinsed his mouth as well, then he'd grabbed a cold can of Dr. Pepper from the pop machine just inside the waiting area, and sat back down to drink it as he waited and decided what to do next.
He thought about what was factual in all of this and what was merely supposition. First the facts: Angel was really Brenda Barrett, and, as of July 20, she was engaged to this Jax. Angel/Brenda was a model and a music executive and was beautiful beyond belief, and, God help him, Tom was in love with her. And he was a lowly government employee with too much debt and too little money. And Jax was a billionaire with incredible taste in both women and bikes, and Tom actually liked the man. Tom hated that last fact.
Now on to the suppositions: Jax loved Angel/Brenda because he was engaged to her, and she loved him because she was engaged to him. OR, perhaps she didn't really love Jax at all, but had run away from Jax and that's how she had turned up on his doorstep, nearly dead and with no memories, and now she loved Tom and not Jax. Tom liked that supposition, and that was the one he decided to hang on to, although a little voice inside his head told him it was useless. But for now he chose to ignore that little voice, and hang on to his illusions until all the facts were in, and all of those facts completely and forever refuted that final supposition. And he knew just where to begin putting together the pertinent facts...
He reached inside his jacket for his cell phone, and realized it was still in the car and still had a very dead battery. He looked further up the hall and saw a pay phone just past the men's room, and he headed for it, pulling his calling card out as he went.
He punched in the numbers, and someone finally answered on the other end. "John, it's me, Tom."
"Tom, do you have any idea what time it is?" Tom's partner and best friend, John Michaels, asked sleepily.
"Yeah, buddy, I'm sorry, but I need you to do something for me right away. I need you to go to my place and get my laptop and my battery charger and the extra battery for my cell phone, and send them immediately by courier to my cabin near Brighton. Okay?" Tom instructed John. "John, I need this done NOW, not later this morning, do you understand?"
"But I thought you wanted to get as far away from civilization as possible. That's why you wouldn't even take a radio with you down there," John replied grumpily, not relishing the thought of leaving his nice, warm bed and his even warmer lady friend in the middle of the night.
"Well, I've changed my mind. Can't a guy do that?" Tom was getting irritated.
"What's the matter? Has just vegging out and communing with nature lost their charms? Aren't you catching anything good in that fishing stream of yours?" John's irritation matched Tom's.
"You'd never believe what I pulled out of that river this year..." Tom replied softly. "Now I really need you to get on this right away, got that, John? You owe me, remember?" He heard a groan on the other end of the line, and then finally a reluctant "Okay" from John. "And I need another favor, too, John, and this is equally important," he paused, wondering if he was doing the right thing, and then decided that he needed to do this, "I need you to find out everything you can about a Jasper Jacks."
Soon after his call to John, Tom had gone back to the waiting area and sat back down. He had tried to read, but he couldn't concentrate, and he had tried to nap, but he couldn't seem to relax. He looked at the clock and saw that it had been nearly three hours since he had brought Angel in for treatment. What could be taking so long! he worried.
He approached the desk and when Ms. Gannon saw him, she jumped up and ran the other direction, leaving a woman dressed in white, whom Tom assumed was a nurse, standing there alone to deal with him. "Excuse me," Tom said as calmly and politely as he could manage. "I wanted to know about the condition of the young woman I brought in a few hours ago. She's about 25, dark hair, beautiful..."
The woman in white, Jan Rogers RN, by her nametag, looked up from her charting and gave him a quick smile. "The Jane Doe? Dr. Mooney's still with her. He just got the bloodwork back on her, and he wanted to do a few more tests. He just ordered an ultrasound, and I imagine he'll call you in soon after that is completed."
"Ultrasound? What's that for?" but Tom's question was quickly - if unintentionally- answered by the ultrasound technician herself when she appeared at the desk and asked: "Where's the pregnant woman Dr. Mooney ordered the ultrasound on?"
Pregnant? Angel's pregnant? Tom's head was spinning and once again he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, and for the second time that night he raced to the grassy area beside the parking lot, and vomited.
Meanwhile, in room 12 of the Pine Cone Motel, Jax was having the strangest dream about Brenda. She was walking in the garden behind her little cottage. It was springtime, and the garden was alive with color: the tulips and daffodils and hyacinths were in full bloom and the fruit trees were all in blossom as well. Jax could actually smell the sweet fragrance of the apple blossoms carried on the warm breeze that fanned Brenda's hair away from her face. Brenda was absolutely radiant. She was wearing a gauzy, white dress, that made her look like an angel, and the way the sun was situated behind her gave a halo effect to her head. Jax was coming toward her carrying their baby. She smiled at him with love in her eyes, and reached her arms out to him to take their child from him. He smiled at her and handed the baby lovingly to her. But when she took the baby from him and kissed him on the cheek, he was not the one she was kissing - it was Tom! And she was telling Tom that she would always love him!
Jax sat up in bed, instantly awake after the vividness of the dream. He tried to get his bearings, as to where he was and who the man in his dream was. Eventually he remembered that he was stranded in a motel room outside of the little town of Brighton, New York, and Tom was the man who had given him the ride to here from the service station where his bike was waiting to be fixed. He laughed self-consciously at the jealousy he was feeling about seeing Tom with Brenda in his dream. He wondered if there were any significance to this dream, but quickly decided that he must have dreamed this because he had fallen asleep trying to imagine how Tom's night of passion had gone, and he had ended up only seeing Brenda's face when he tried to visualize Tom's lady friend. That had to be it, he thought - that, or the onions on the hamburger he had eaten.
With those rationalizations in mind, Jax lay back down and tried to forget the dream, but he couldn't. Instead he began to wonder if there was a reason - other than indigestion - that Tom had appeared in his dream. And then his curiosity about Tom seemed to grow more and more as he pondered the dream. Finally he decided that there was only one way to satisfy his curiosity about Tom: tomorrow, as soon as he got his bike back, he was going to find out where Tom lived and pay him a surprise visit.