The Magic Of Ordinary Days

A Jane & Lisbon Story

By Brown Eyes Parker

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note:

This is loosely based on the idea for the Magic Of Ordinary Days, it is an excellent story and one that I would not try to replicate exactly. So, if you know the story then please don't compare the two. I am only using the general idea for it, if you don't know the story then I hope you will check out the movie or the book because it is amazing.

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Chapter 1

Teresa Lisbon clutched her suitcase with both hands while her father preached at her for her numerous transgressions. She tried to drown him out but he was already in her head, a constant litany about how she had erred drummed on and on in her mind until she thought she was going to scream. If she heard one more scripture verse about sexual immorality, she didn't know what she would do.

But the sound of a whistle train blowing in the distance was her salvation. In a short twenty-four hours, she would be far away from her home and her father's judgmental looks and harsh words about how she was a terrible sinner.

She could only pray the place she was going was a better place than the one she was in now. A safe haven for her and the little life that was growing in her womb as she waited to go off and marry a complete stranger, a man who was willing to marry her despite the fact that she was damaged goods and due to have another man's child in eight months.

The train that would take her to her new life came to a grinding halt, moaning as it rested its weary engine and Teresa almost sighed in relief.

"Goodbye Father," she said, turning to look at him, searching for the tiniest bit of forgiveness in his eyes but there was none and her spirits faltered a little bit.

He turned away from her, not even acknowledging her farewell. Teresa squared her shoulders, trying not to let his snub affect her. She lifted her chin, determined to keep a stiff-upper lip as she boarded the train.

As the train chugged away, she didn't look out the window, there was no need to. She already knew her father had walked away the second she had boarded the train, glad to be rid of his harlot of a daughter and get home to his theological textbooks and sermon notes.

He would probably preach a special sermon this week, something that was directed at the young girls of his congregation. Something about the evils of sexual immorality and walking upright with the Lord, scaring them all to death with the promise of fire and brimstone if they lost their purity before they were married even though most of the young girls in Chicago Methodist Church probably still hadn't had the 'birds & the bees' talk yet, it was something you didn't typically talk about until they had sailed into 'womanhood' on a sea of warm blood.

Teresa knew from experience how mortifying bleeding from the inside onto your snowy white panties had been. She hadn't known how to breach the subject with her own mother, too embarrassed and too ashamed to say anything to her about it because it didn't seem like tne sort of thing you talked about in polite company.

Thankfully, her mother had been very intuitive and she had approached her about. They had spent hours talking about it over Cokes and ice cream sundaes. She had told her everything and more, Anne Lisbon had been the complete picture of understanding.

If only her father could have been as understanding as her mother had been that day thirteen years ago.

If only he could have really understood why she had surrendered her virginity so easily, maybe he wouldn't have been so hasty to judge her for her sins. Or maybe he would have judged her even more severely. Yes, she was thankful she had never told him why she had gone to bed with the handsome young soldier. Her father wouldn't have understood at all and her ears were already burning enough from his hateful use of the Bible.

Her father's unlovingness, his sending her away to marry a complete stranger. . . it didn't make her sorry for what she had done at all. Not in front of him and definitely not in front of the God that she had once loved more than anything else in the world. If God was as hateful and damning as her father was. . . well, she didn't want anything to do with him.

It was times like these that she missed her mother so much it physically hurt to breathe. Teresa covered her face with her two glove-covered hands and tried not to fall apart.

By the next morning, she was exhausted. She hadn't slept very well and she'd spent most of the trop in the train lavatory, clinging to the toilet with motion sickness. She felt disgusting and was pretty sure she looked that way too. She retrieved her suitcase from her compartment and cleaned up as best as she could in the sink.

She changed her dress into a pretty cream colored one that was splashed with large violets. She smoothed out the flyaways in her dark hair and released a deep breath. She still had dark circles under her eyes but there was nothing she could do about that, hopefully her new groom wouldn't notice.

Teresa opened her purse and pulled out her favorite tube of red lipstick and applied an even layer. After rubbing her lips together, she sighed again and braced her hands on either side of the sink. "Teresa Lisbon, welcome to the first day of the rest of your life," she said sarcastically.

She made her way back to her seat and settled in for the final hours of her journey out west, trying not to let the nerves get the best of her stomach again.

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California was hot and dry, a sharp contrast from humid Chicago. The town that was going to be her new home looked like it had been frozen in time; nothing was modern or current about it. It was faded and tired, the movie marquee was showing a picture she had already seen six months ago and there weren't any restaurants

Teresa thought maybe her father had wanted to send her to hell on purpose even though Patrick Jane had been the only young man who wanted to marry her out of the twelve churches her father had sent letters of inquiry out to.

"Teresa Lisbon?"

She looked up and found a young man with curly blonde hair and stunning green eyes, studying her intensely.

"Yes?" She answered.

"I'm Patrick Jane," he said, holding out his hand her's. "I recognized you from the photograph that Reverend Minelli showed me."

Teresa took his hand politely and observed him. He looked like a hard worker, his face was colored by the sun and he had a smattering of freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. His eyes were not only stunning but kind too, non-judgmental. He looked like he belonged in Hollywood, not in a small town. He would give Cary Grant and Clark Gable a run for their money; he would make the silver screen bombshells swoon.

"Hello Patrick," she said, managing to smile at him.

"Are you ready to get married?" Patrick asked, reaching for her suitcase.

"Yes," Teresa answered hollowly as she handed him her luggage and followed him to a beaten up robin's egg blue, Chevy truck.

"Me too," Patrick replied, smiling easily at her. "I've always wanted to be married."

"Then why didn't you get married before now?" Teresa asked, a blush followed her blunt question and she wished she had heeded her mother's advice to not be nosey.

Patrick shrugged. "Nobody's ever really wanted me before now."

"There had to be someone though," Teresa answered as he opened the truck door for him and she slid in, thankful to see that the inside was immaculate. There would be no oil puddles or anything else that would be likely to stain her dress.

Patrick shrugged again, not saying anything. She could tell from the look on his face that there had been somebody, but he didn't want to share the intimate details of his personal life with a complete stranger.

Teresa didn't ask for more details, she didn't want to irritate him so soon after they had met. Instead she changed the subject, pressing her hand to her abdomen. "Do you think you'll be able to love my baby as your own?" she asked.

"Of course!" Patrick answered, looking at her stomach and smiling. "I would have never agreed to marry you if I didn't think I could love your child. A home where there isn't love and affection from both the parents isn't much of a home at all."

"That's true," Teresa agreed.

"I was blessed enough to grow up in a home with two loving parents. I had a good example of what a father should be like, so I think I'll be a good one too."

"Yes," Teresa answered. "It's always helps to have a good example."

They lapsed into silence and a few seconds later, Patrick had parked in front of a quaint white church. Reverend Virgil Minelli and his wife, May was waiting for them on the porch steps. She was relieved to see her father's old friend even though she was bracing herself for another round of fiery judgement. The round of scripture, more painful than any bullet, didn't come though. Instead, she greeted with welcoming words and warm embraces from both Reverend Minelli and May.

The vows seemed to go by in a blur, the next thing she knew, she was exchanging rings with Patrick and Reverend Minelli was pronouncing them husband and wife and telling Patrick to kiss his bride.

Teresa closed her eyes, bracing herself for a kiss from somebody who was almost a perfect stranger. It was quick and undemanding. . . polite, his lips grazed her and were gone before a full second had even ticked by. When the ceremony was over, Reverend Minelli insisted on taking a picture for them to commemorate the occasion.

She could still see spots in front of her eyes as Patrick ushered her back into the truck and told her that they were going to have their wedding supper with his sister and her husband. Teresa felt a sense of relief wash over her knowing that she wouldn't have to cook dinner for them after her long trip.

The drive out of town was long and hot, another hour of travel time. She just wanted to be settled, she was feeling restless now. Just when she didn't think she could handle it anymore, he was pulling onto farmland.

A pretty red-headed girl was running to meet them, a smile on her face. Two kids weren't too far behind her, jumping up and down while they shouted Uncle Patrick, Uncle Patrick! together.

"Hi Ben, hi Maddie!" Patrick called out the open window as he came to a complete stop and turned the vehicle. As soon as he had stepped outside, he had been tackled by his niece and nephew. "That's enough kids; I need to help your new aunt out of the truck."

The three of them came around the other side of the truck and before she knew what was happening, Teresa was outside and being assaulted with embraces by two kids.

"Benjamin, Madeline! Give Teresa some breathing room, please!" Their mother scolded, but not too harshly. She was smiling and laughing just as much as her children were. "Hey there, I'm Grace Rigsby."

"Teresa Lisbon. . . I mean Jane," Teresa answered. "Nice to meet you."

Grace laughed. "Changing your last name takes a little getting used to, don't worry about it. Come on in and have a glass of lemonade. Patrick, Wayne and Kimball are in the barn, if you want to go out and help them with the rest of the chores."

"Thank you," Patrick answered as he pulled off his tie, suit coat and vest. "Will you be okay Teresa?

"She'll be fine!" Grace said. "I'm not gonna hurt her, Patrick! And I won't expose any of your dirty little secrets either, stop worrying."

"He has dirty little secrets?" Teresa asked as her new husband disappeared.

"Hardly," Grace replied as she ushered her into the house and led her to a cozy kitchen, painted in a friendly shade of yellow with daisy decorations.

She went to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade and poured Teresa some into a tall glass.

"Can I have some too mommy?" Maddie asked pleadingly.

"Just a little bit," Grace answered, giving the girl a swallowful in another glass. "I don't want you to spoil your supper."

"Forgive me for saying this, but you and Patrick look nothing alike," Teresa said after taking a sip of lemonade.

"Oh, he's not my biological brother," Grace replied. "I was adopted; my biological father and mother weren't married. And nobody wanted to marry my mother the way Patrick married you, especially since they all knew who my father was."

"A murderer," Ben interjected bluntly.

"Benjamin!" Grace scolded. "Go to the barn and help your father finish the chores! Now!"

Ben slammed his hat on his head and grinned before disappearing out the back door.

"I didn't mean to start anything," Teresa apologized.

"It wasn't your fault," Grace assured her. "Ben's still learning not to say things that he shouldn't, especially around new family members. It isn't a secret, the man my father was, but he was just trying to shock you."

"I'm so glad you're here!" Maddie chimed in, leaning on Teresa's knees and looking up at her with eyes that were exactly the same color as her mother's. "I only have uncles and they both died in the war last year."

"Maddie, shhh!" Grace said, covering her daughter's mouth with her hand. "There's no need to overwhelm Auntie Teresa with our life story right now! Daddy and I told you before she came not to bombard her, remember? She's had a long trip, she's exhausted. Save it for another day, okay sweetie?"

Maddie rolled her eyes. "Yes ma'am," she replied, straightening up and taking the chair next to Teresa's.

Dinner was an uneventful affair, Maddie and Ben stared at Teresa the whole time while Grace engaged her in small talk and Wayne, Grace's husband, discussed plans for the upcoming town dance with Patrick.

As soon as the meal was over, Patrick was ushering Teresa out the door and back to the truck as they both thanked Grace for supper. Patrick needed to get home and do his own neglected evening chores.

Thankfully, he only lived a mile away from the Rigsby farm. So, they were home in a short amount of time. The sun was setting when they reached his house, so she couldn't really take in her new surroundings but she could tell the house was sturdy and safe. A home that had been already been passed down through a few generations of Janes, according to Grace. It would be a good place to raise a child, a home filled with generations of love and faith.

"It's kind of old," Patrick said, breaking into her thoughts.

Teresa shook her head. "It's perfect," she told him.

"I'm glad you like it," Patrick answered, lifting her suitcase out of the bed of the truck and bringing her up to the house. "My great-great-grandfather built it for my great-great-grandmother before they got married. When he died, he left it to his son, who left it to my grandfather. When my father got it, he remodeled it a little bit before he married my mother."

"And now you have it," Teresa said as he opened the door and let her into the hallway.

"Yes," Patrick replied. "And I'll leave it to our son one day, if we have one. If we don't, I'll leave it to our daughter. . . if she wants it. Come on, I'll show you to your room."

"My room?" Teresa asked as she followed him up the stairs.

"My dad and mom's old room," Patrick told her as he showed her into a spacious bedroom with a wrought-iron bed and two picture windows. "I'll sleep in the room that I used to share with my brothers. If you need anything, it's right across the hall from this room."

"Thank you," Teresa answered, shedding her jacket and taking off her hat as she looked around the room.

Patrick put her suitcase on the bed and then opened the windows, letting in the evening breeze. "Tell me if you want to redecorate it, I'd be more than happy to take you into town to order material and paint. I have to go let the dog out of the barn and do a few things before bed. I'll see you in the morning, Teresa."

"Goodnight," Teresa said, thankful that he wasn't expecting her to consummate their marriage or share a bed with him.

Marrying him was one thing, giving herself to him was another. Especially when she still loved somebody else. Her hand went to the locket around her neck and she opened it too look at the man who had her heart again. She touched his face and wished things were different, wished that there was no war going on and she could have married him instead.

She sighed and went to the window, looking out at the yard. She could make out Patrick and a golden retriever, running around the yard, could hear the joyful barks from the dog as he played with his master. She let the curtain drop back into place and shimmied out of her dress, changing into her nightgown.

After taking her down and brushing the tangles out, she crawled into bed and was asleep before her head had even hit the pillow.

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Patrick was too excited to sleep; he took the family Bible off the shelf and turned to the front page where a long list of Jane marriages was recorded. He smiled to himself as he added his and Teresa's names and the date of their wedding under those of his parents.

For the first time in a while, his heart was overflowing. There was love and a family in his future, he was so thankful to God and Reverend Minelli for sending Teresa Lisbon to him. He only hoped that he could endeavor to deserve her.

In the meantime, he would cherish her as best as he could and try and be half the husband that his father had been.

TBC. . .

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Author's Note II:

First of all, I don't normally like stories where Lisbon is pregnant and second of all, I really don't like them where she is pregnant with somebody else's baby. But this story was nagging me like crazy, so I decided to go with my muse. I hope you all will take the time to tell me what you think. I am anxiously awaiting your thoughts and your reviews.

Until Next Time!

Love,

Holly, 3/13/2015_