She really was going to start crying, any second now. She just wanted Jones, and having this person in front of her who was him, but wasn't, it just made everything worse.
“Yeah, right,” she took a deep breath. “I'm glad we sorted this all out, it was driving me crazy. Literally, ha ha. I'll just head out now.”
She reached for the door knob, but he blocked her by standing in front of the door.
“What, now? At this hour? You can't drive all night.”
“Of course, right,” she sighed. “Maybe there's a hotel ...”
Jones grimaced and rubbed at his jaw.
“There's some big derby at the lake this weekend, I'll be surprised if we can find you anywhere. Look – let's go into town, grab some dinner, and I'll make some calls. Sound good?”
No, it did not sound good. It sounded like torture. But those big green eyes were staring at her, and they had smiles in their depths again, and she couldn't say no to them. Not even when they belonged to the wrong person.
He told you to remember him. He told you to believe.
“Lead the way.”
AS SOON AS THEY GOT to the restaurant, Adele locked herself away in the bathroom for a solid five minutes. She would not cry – crying just made everything worse, it never solved anything. Plus, she wouldn't be able to hide it from him. This Jones may not have been the same as hers, but he was just as watchful. Like he was tuned in to her particular wavelengths, she could feel it in the way his eyes followed her.
Once she felt like her emotions were under control, she went back to their table, determined to have a good time. She'd stop thinking of him as the man from her dreams, and maybe he'd stop treating her like his patient, and things could feel somewhat normal.
And surprisingly enough, they did. Once she stopped trying to force him into the mold of the man from her dreams, she discovered she could relax. Relax and just talk to him. Like she'd always talked to him.
It never stops being confusing.
She told him about her crazy brothers, and what life had been like growing up with them. He gave her a few stories about their behavior in the hospital, and she laughed a lot.
They talked about how he was from Reno originally, but he'd gone to nursing school in Denver – he'd followed a girlfriend there. It was a fact Adele didn't particularly like hearing about, but considering he'd met and spent time with her ex-boyfriend – whom she still lived with – she let it slide. After he'd broken up with the girl, he'd spent a couple years there before deciding to transfer to Los Angeles.
“Why L.A.?” she asked, stealing a fry off his plate. “Why not back to Reno? Or somewhere close by, like Tahoe?”
Jones shrugged and looked out over the crowd of people on a nearby dance floor.
“Honestly ... I don't know.”
Adele hesitated for a moment, then swallowed the fry before asking, “you don't know why you moved to one of the most populated cities in the country?”
“It's strange, I know,” he agreed, finally looking at her again. “And I thought about going back to Reno. But I just ... I wanted ... something. Does that make sense? My life was missing something. It was ... jesus, it was so fucking boring.”
He ended with a laugh, but Adele just stared at him. The hours leading up to her accident were still fuzzy in her memories, but she could remember how she felt about her life leading up to those hours.
Like it was missing something. Like it was so fucking boring.
“I know the feeling,” she said in a soft voice.
“Yeah? It's the worst. Like there was something missing, or I was missing out on something, I couldn't figure it out. But I couldn't keep doing what I was doing. So I looked into going home, but that just didn't seem right – what challenge is there in going home? I knew L.A., I already liked it there. Great hospitals, great weather, and a lot of people means a lot of business. Seemed like a good fit for me,” he explained.
“Yeah, but ... Tahoe, or Vegas, has all those things, and those would've been much closer to home,” she pointed out. “Or even San Francisco would've made more sense.”
Jones shrugged and went back to looking over the crowd.
“I don't know what to tell you. Los Angeles just called to me. Seemed like the right move.”
Because I was there. Because our souls do resonate. Because my accident was meant to happen. You said I would find you, Jones, and I think you meant it. I think you're in there somewhere, and I think you know me. I think your soul knows me.
“Hey,” she started, shoving their empty plates aside so she could lean over the table. “We never talked about your name.”
“Johannes?” he asked, glancing at her. “My father's family is Norwegian, all the first boys have it.”
“No. Jones. Where does 'Jones' come from? I always wondered.”
“Man, I gotta tell you, that freaked me out more than anything – you calling me Jones.”
“Why?”
“Because only my sister ever called me Jones.”
“No one else?”
“No, and she died last year.”
“Oh,” Adele hadn't known that, she was surprised. Dream Jones had once told her he had a sister, but he'd never spoken of her again. Real Jones must have mentioned her once, but not elaborated on her.
“I know I talked about her with you,” he said, scratching his fingers through his hair. “The anniversary of her death happened about a week after I got assigned to you. I must have mentioned something about her calling me Jones.”
“Must have,” Adele agreed. “You never said your last name, I guess, because I didn't know it until I saw your badge.”
“God, this so bizarre,” he sighed, both hands in his hair now. “Is it weird to feel this way?”
“Feel what way?”
“Like I know you. I mean, yeah, I talked to you a lot, but you never talked back. You were a patient, a coma patient. You weren't capable of response. I didn't think it was anything more than that – me talking to a comatose person. Yet here you are, and here I am, and it feels ... normal. Like we've been doing this all our lives,” he said.
Adele's heart started racing.
Because we have been doing it all our lives, Jones.
“I know what you mean,” she breathed. “And I don't think it's weird at all.”
“How is this possible? How do I know you?” he mumbled, his gaze locked onto hers. She refused to move for several moments, willing his soul to recognize hers for what it was.
While they stared at each other, the rowdy band on stage announced they were taking a break. Most of the dancers left the floor, but then a slow song crooned out of the jukebox. Something old and soulful. A powerful, raspy voice sang about stormy weather and losing a lover. Several dancers lingered, then paired up and began swaying together.
“I love this song,” Adele sighed, then felt a little stunned by her statement. She wasn't sure she'd ever even heard the song before, and yet it felt familiar to her.
Because it sounds like something that might play over an old jukebox in a retro diner, especially one in a dream.
“I love Etta James,” Jones agreed, naming the singer.
“Interesting choice for a fishing lodge,” Adele joked, glancing around at the various fish mounted on the walls.
“Would you like to dance?”
Her gaze snapped back to him, not sure if he was joking or not. But he was staring at her in complete earnest, looking so much like the Jones from her dream, it made her heart swell.
“I'd love to.”
The dance floor had grown crowded as the song had gone on, but Jones wound his way towards the middle of it, shocking her by reaching back and grabbing her hand. She tried her best to ignore the sparks of electricity flickering between their palms, refusing to get her hopes up. She just smiled when he turned to face her and wrapped her arms around his neck as they started moving to the beat.
“I don't think I ever realized,” he spoke in a soft voice.
“Realized what?”
“Your eyes ... they're not quite blue. They're almost ... almost a violet color.”
Adele smiled at him.
“Yours are like emeralds,” she replied. “Such a dark green, I've never seen eyes like yours before.”
He was quiet for a long time, almost studying her while they danced. She didn't mind. As long as he kept looking at her, kept holding her, she didn't mind at all.
She felt like he was really seeing her, for the first time since she'd fainted in his arms at the hospital. Like he was finally recognizing her. Just a little, but still. She'd take it. She'd take anything she could get with Jones.
His eyes were wide as he stared down at her, his pupils large. She could see the wheels turning in his head, like he was having some sort of internal debate. This real life Jones was a practical man, a man of science as it were – she'd learned that much about him. He didn't believe in dreams and magic and fate.
But maybe inside of him was her dream Jones, her soulmate. And he recognized her soul, was demanding to be heard, and was fighting to find his way back to her.
“Adele,” his voice was low when he eventually spoke. “I wonder if we -”
“Alright, who's ready to rock!?”
They both winced as a voice screeched over the amp system. The band was taking their place on stage again, completely ruining the moment. Jones took a step back from her. More a like a step back into himself. He looked confused, so she dropped her arms to her sides and gave him a big smile. He'd made life easy for her when things had been dark – she could return the favor a little.
“Rock music isn't really my thing,” she laughed. “I'm gonna go to the bathroom.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good. I'll get the check,” he mumbled, then walked back to the table, rubbing at his neck the whole way.
Adele made her way to the bathroom, holding her head high. She refused to feel defeated – the feeling had crept up on her in the cabin, and she'd almost succumbed to it. Thank god he'd suggested dinner. She felt like she'd gotten to know the real him a lot better, and had maybe even gotten a glimpse of Dream Jones, as well.