In Love with John Doe (9 page)

With her hair pulled back in a ponytail and not a hint of makeup on her face, the twenty-three-year old strawberry blonde could pass for a high school student. Though she liked to spend money on clothes—she’d confided to Lexi that the ragged jeans she had on had cost over a hundred dollars—she always looked like she’d just tumbled out of bed.

“Lexi.”

Lexi blinked.

“Why no roses?”

“Jack doesn’t like them,” Lexi said without thinking. “The smell drives him crazy.”

“Jack?”

“I told you about Jack,” Lexi said. “The guy who got caught up in the avalanche last week.”

Mimi’s brows pulled together in a frown. “What does he have to do with my flowers?”

“I took him along with me to meet with Delia. To give me a male perspective.” Lexi sensed Mimi’s irritation and found her own rising in response. Darn it, Mimi had given her carte blanche as long as she stayed under the dollar limit. If Mimi expected an apology, she wasn’t going to get it. “In our heads, we were you and Hank, looking at flowers for our wedding.”

“If it were me and Hank, I would have told him he could hold his nose and put up with the roses for one day.”

“Yeah, right.” Lexi’s smile faded at the look in Mimi’s eyes. “You’re serious.”

“You bet I am.” Mimi took a bite of her green Jell-O, scrunched up her nose then moved it to the side of her tray. “This is my wedding and if I couldn’t have those imported flowers, I wanted roses.”

Somehow Lexi managed to keep her temper in check. “You never mentioned that to me. You simply told me to pick out the flowers I’d like,” she said in what she hoped was a reasonable tone. “The only parameter I was given was to stay within the budget—”

“That whole budget thing is really ticking me off,” Mimi said. “A girl only gets married once in her life. My parents can’t help out. I understand that. But Hank has money saved. Yet he insists we keep this wedding under ten thousand dollars. Get real. This is the twenty-first century. There’s no way you can have a decent wedding for that amount. I told him that last night.”

Mimi shoved her fork into her mountain of macaroni and cheese with a vengeance.

Lexi wanted to reassure Mimi that she could—and would—have a perfectly lovely wedding for that amount, but the look in her friend’s eyes told her there was more going on here than money. She reached over and covered Mimi’s hand with her own. “Did you and Hank have another argument?”

A tear slipped down Mimi’s cheek but she hurriedly brushed it back. “He makes me so mad. Just because he’s eight years older than me and went to college he thinks he knows so much. But I’m not going to just do whatever he wants.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Lexi said in a soothing tone. “Marriage is a partnership, not a dictatorship.”

“That’s what I told him.” Mimi straightened in her chair and punched the air with her finger.

“What did he say?” Lexi tried to stifle her unease. For a couple supposedly in love and on the verge of marriage, the two sure seemed to fight a lot.

“He kissed me.” Mimi’s lips curved upward. “And there wasn’t much talkin’ after that, if you know what I mean.”

Unfortunately Lexi did know. In the time she’d known Mimi and Hank, sex had always been the response to any disagreements.

“What’s this? This says something about if I cancel the wedding?” Mimi’s eyes narrowed on the Petal Creations contract in front of her.

“It’s a clause Jack had Delia insert.” Lexi kept her tone light. “Just in case something happens and the wedding can’t go off as scheduled.”

Lexi watched in horror as Mimi struck through the clause with her pen before signing.

“What are you doing?” Lexi asked, her voice louder than she’d have liked. “That clause benefits you and Hank.”

Mimi shook her head, her expression turning mulish. “Talking about the wedding not happening—much less putting it in print—is bad karma. I want no part of it.”

“But what if—”

“Nothing is going to stop this wedding. I’m not going to let it.” Mimi smiled at Lexi, a pitying look in her eyes. “If you’d ever been a bride yourself, you’d understand.”

“It’s Jack,” Addie called out. “Can I open the door?”

“Yes, you may,” Lexi called out, reaching over the back of the sofa to retrieve a shoe.

“Now that’s an interesting view,” Jack said. “What do you think, Addie? You like the view?”

Addie giggled and Lexi slowly straightened. “Har, har. Hello, Jack. How was your day?”

“Uneventful,” he said. “I worked out this morning and remembered a routine I did with the free weights. So I guess I wasn’t a total sloth in my previous life.”

Her gaze met his. “I never thought that for a minute.”

“Yeah, well.” He dropped into a nearby chair. “I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever know who I am.”

Addie waved her hand wildly in the air. “I know who you are.”

“Yes, Addie?” Lexi said.

“Your name is Jack Snow,” Addie said, her chest puffed with importance. “And you’re our friend.”

“Thank you, Addie,” Jack said, his eyes warm, “for clearing that up.”

Lexi brought a finger to her lips. “I think we have everything we need.”

“Not your pie,” Addie said. “And I told Connor I’d bring my new DVD.”

“Okay, you get your movie,” Lexi said. “I’ll get the pie and then we should be ready to go.”

“What kind are you bringing?” Jack asked.

“Sour cream raisin.” Lexi stepped into the tiny kitchen just off the equally small living room and opened the refrigerator door. When she pulled out the pie and straightened she found Jack staring out the window. “Is something wrong? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“And who is that?” Jack rested his back against the sill. “At the rate things are going, I may never learn my real name.”

“You’re remembering more every day. It won’t—”

“Have you noticed that the only news being reported is that terrorist plot?” Jack pushed away from the window. “It’s the only story on the Internet.”

The puzzle pieces fell into place. Lexi finally understood the root of his distress. “You’re afraid your story got buried.”

Jack met her gaze. “I’m not afraid it got buried, I
know
it got buried.”

“It’s still out there, Jack,” Lexi said. “And I bet in a week or so—if there’s no response—the sheriff will send the story out again.”

“In a week or so, I’ll be out of money,” Jack said, a bleak look in his eyes. “Then I’ll be out on the street.”

“Don’t worry about that. Coraline isn’t the type to throw you to the bears,” Lexi said with a wink. “She’ll probably put you to work, but at least you’ll have a roof over your head.”

“If you don’t have anywhere else to stay, you could stay with us,” Addie said, emerging from her bedroom. “Right, Mommy?”

Lexi’s smile froze on her face. “Our cabin isn’t that big, sweetheart.”

“I could give Jack my Strawberry Shortcake bed and I could sleep with you.” Addie nodded as if she had it all planned out. “That would work.”

“It’s a possibility,” Lexi murmured, though it wasn’t going to happen.

Because she knew if they were in the same house, it wouldn’t be Strawberry Shortcake he’d be sleeping with, but her.

John and Kayla Simpson’s infant daughter stared wide-eyed in her father’s arms, oblivious to the chaos. But David and July’s newborn son, Adam, was adding his high-pitched wails to the melee.

“Welcome to my world.” Mary Karen reached out and grabbed Logan. “There’s beer and soft drinks in the fridge, so help yourself.”

“I’ll take the twins into the living room,” Addie volunteered. “Come on, boys. Wait till you see this movie. It’s really scary.”

Lexi smiled. “Thanks, honey.”

“I appreciate the invitation.” Jack glanced around the interior of the older home. While it wasn’t elegant, it had a warmth that he found appealing. “You have a lovely home.”

“Down.” Logan squirmed in his mother’s arms. “I want down.”

“First you have to get on some clothes, buddy.” Travis ambled into the room, flashed a smile at Jack and Lexi then held out his arms to Logan. The toddler flung himself at Travis.

“Fly like airplane,” the boy ordered.

“You do the hostess thing,” Travis said to Mary Karen. “I’ll take care of this one.”

“Airplane.” Logan pushed up and down in Travis’s arms. “Fly like airplane.”

“Sure you can handle him?” Mary Karen said.

“Piece o’ cake.” Travis grinned. “A two-year-old is nothing compared to a woman in labor.”

“It’s time to fly to the clothing hanger, my boy.” Travis lifted the toddler in the air made a sound like an airplane and the two headed down the hall.

Jack watched in amazement. Lexi, or Coraline, or someone had mentioned he might be married with kids. But, based on what he was seeing—and feeling—here tonight, he could rule that out. This was uncharted territory.

“Things will settle down,” Lexi said in a soothing tone, as if she feared he would bolt. “C’mon, I’ll get you a beer.”

Jack followed her into the kitchen. “Is it always so crazy?”

Lexi laughed. “Usually worse.”

“This—” he waved a hand helplessly in the air “—isn’t familiar at all.”

Lexi grabbed a beer for him and a soda for herself. “What part exactly isn’t familiar?”

He popped open the tab and took a long swallow. “Any of this,” he said, gesturing with the can of beer in his hand. “The home. The kids running around. None of this.”

“Hmm.” Lexi lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “Certainly doesn’t sound like you were a family man.”

“No, it doesn’t.” His gaze met and held hers.

“David is here with the pizzas,” Mary Karen called out from the living room.

“Why is she yelling?” Jack leaned back against the counter and took another sip of beer.

“Because—” Lexi opened the door to a pantry and rummaged inside, finally emerging with a handful of paper plates and napkins “—she wants me to have these ready.”

He sat his beer on the counter and took the paper products from her hands. “What about forks?”

Mary Karen stepped into the kitchen followed by her brother. “We’re barbarians,” she said with a grin. “We eat pizza the way it was meant to be eaten…with our hands.”

The next ten minutes were what Jack would label “controlled chaos.” Pizzas were unboxed. Paper cups filled with ice were placed on the counters. Large liters of assorted soda were opened, and everyone dug in.

Somehow Jack and Lexi ended up at the kitchen table with Mary Karen and Travis and the three boys. Addie had chosen to “help” July feed baby Adam in the dining room where the rest of the guests were congregated.

The pizza—obtained from a downtown business—was surprisingly good. Jack was on his second piece when one of the twins sucked milk into his straw and shot it across the table at his brother. Unfortunately Travis had chosen that exact moment to lean over to get more hot peppers for his pizza. The doctor barely reacted when the splat of milk hit him on the cheek.

“Connor,” Travis said as the milk dribbled down his cheek. “Four minutes in time-out. Now.”

“I didn’t mean to hit you.” Connor reluctantly slid off his chair to his feet. “I was aiming for Caleb.”

“In the time-out chair, Connor.” Travis wiped the milk off his cheek with a napkin. “You know where it is. I’ll tell you when your time is up.”

To his credit, the doctor kept his tone firm, but even.

“Connor’s going to time-out,” Caleb said in a singsong tone. “I’m going to eat his pizza.”

Like a cobra striking, Travis pinned Caleb with his gaze. “One more word out of you, and you’ll join your brother.”

Caleb’s eyes widened. His mouth snapped shut.

Jack glanced at Mary Karen, calmly cutting up a slice of pizza into bite-size pieces for two-year-old Logan. If she minded Travis disciplining her sons, it didn’t show.

“You’re good with kids,” Jack said to Travis. “Do you have any of your own?”

“Thank God, no.” Travis chuckled and took a sip of beer.

“Travis is the oldest of eight,” Mary Karen said, placing the pizza bites in front of Logan. “He doesn’t want children.”

An odd tension filled the air.

“I never said that,” Travis said. “Not exactly.”

“That’s cool,” Mary Karen said. “You just have to find a woman who doesn’t have any kids and who doesn’t want any. Lots of men don’t like kids. Right, Jack?”

“I’m the wrong one to ask,” Jack said, feeling Lexi’s gaze settle on him. “I barely know what
I
like. I can’t speak for other men.”

“You know I like kids, Mary Karen,” Travis said, his shoulders stiff and his back ramrod straight. “Just because I don’t want a bunch of my own doesn’t mean I don’t like them.”

Travis glanced down at his watch. “Time to spring the wild man from time-out.”

He rose to his feet and started out of the kitchen but stopped next to Mary Karen. “I like your boys a lot. Don’t think otherwise.”

Mary Karen simply shrugged.

Jack had the feeling it was the best she could muster. He also had the feeling it was time to change the subject.

“My money’s going to run out within the next week or so,” he said. “So if you hear of any odd jobs where someone will pay cash, let me know.”

“There might be something open at the hospital,” Mary Karen said.

“Or at one of the businesses in the area,” Lexi added.

“I don’t have a social security card, remember,” Jack said, having already considered—and rejected—those options. “Or any other identification, for that matter.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” Mary Karen said.

Lexi sighed. “Employers need identification.”

“Well, if you get desperate,” Mary Karen said. “I’ve got an extra room. You could move in and help me take care of the boys.”

“Who’s moving in where?” Travis asked, returning to the kitchen with a subdued Connor.

“Jack
might
move in,” Mary Karen waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing definite. It just depends on how long it takes him to discover his identity.”

Travis’s gaze met his. There was a clear warning in the young doctor’s eyes. “If there’s any way I can help in getting information out, let me know.”

“I appreciate the offer.” Jack had no desire to come between Mary Karen and Travis and he had a feeling moving in would do just that. “But I’m still hoping the press release will bear some fruit.”

“If it doesn’t?” Lexi asked.

Jack’s gaze settled on Mary Karen. “Then you just might have yourself a live-in manny.”