SBC Fighter: Tails Of Love Part 25

"Time of death isn't that accurate."

It didn't have to be. Just knowing Danny could have died waiting for her to come savaged her inside. "But if I'd woken up, checked on him . . . I might have been able to do CPR, bring him back-"

Patty took the sheet from her hand. "I'm a nurse. I know al about the futility of coulda-woulda-shoulda."

Kathy couldn't look up. "He depended on me."

Patty squeezed her hand. "Wait here."

She was back in a minute. In her hand she held a booklet. She laid it on the sheet in Kathy's line of sight. The words "SIDS: understanding and accepting the sudden loss of a child" jumped out at her.

She pushed it away. She'd read al there was to read on SIDS. Patty pushed it right back. "You've already lost your son. Do you real y want to lose your husband, too?"

"No." Oh, G.o.d. No.

"Then you might want to keep that. You also might want to attend a meeting. This is a support group for people who've been where you are. They're meeting in a half hour downstairs. You should attend."

"Why?"

"You said you wanted to know everything about your son's death? Wel "-she tapped the page-"this is part of it, too."

Kathy crumpled the pamphlet in her hand.

CHAPTER SIX.

Kathy hesitated at the front door of the house, unsure whether to knock. She knew Walt was home. She'd cal ed the station to check on his s.h.i.+ft and his car was in the drive.

Stil , maybe he wouldn't want to see her. It'd been two weeks since she'd left the hospital. Two weeks in which she'd refused to see him. Two weeks in which she'd fought with herself. Two weeks in which she'd attended support groups, met with a grief counselor, started working through the pain.

This never stopped being your home, Kathy.

The statement wrapped around her with the comfort of a hug. And Walt had never stopped being her husband, yet she'd come so close to pus.h.i.+ng him away. Maybe she final y had. The last two weeks had been the hardest of her life, and while she'd ached for him, she hadn't dared see him until she was sure she had herself under control.

She entered the house. He wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. Looking through the patio doors, she didn't see him in the backyard.

From down the hal , she heard a male voice. Walt, and he obviously wasn't alone. What if he had a woman with him? Her heart sank to her toes, but she held her ground. If Walt was trying to move on, she'd deal with that, too, but she was done running.

Her sneakers made no sound on the thick carpet. The words got more distinct as she reached the end of the hal .

He was in Danny's bedroom.

"This was his favorite bal . He had a thing for bal s. A lot like you."

She peeked around the corner. Walt was sitting on the floor, beside the crib, Sebastian lay beside him. Walt was showing the dog the soft rubber bal that had been Danny's favorite toy. Sebastian, who was looking much better with the infection gone and his hair growing back, gave it a sniff, tucked it in his mouth, and then put his head back on Walt's leg.

"We used to talk about getting him a dog just like you in a couple years. Someone he could grow up with, play bal with, talk to."

Walt rubbed that special spot behind Sebastian's ear.

The dog tilted his head and moaned, but he never let go of the bal . Walt gave it a little tug. Sebastian tugged back. A sad, somehow tender smile played about Walt's lips. She knew what he was remembering. Danny didn't like to give knew what he was remembering. Danny didn't like to give the bal back either.

He ruffled the dog's head. "You would have liked Danny.

He had a way of laughing that made everyone around him happy." He stopped rubbing and took a breath. "Just like his mother."

Kathy hadn't laughed in what felt like forever. Hadn't cried, hadn't lived, hadn't done anything worthwhile in more than six months. She'd just shut down, leaving her husband to fend for himself while she punished herself.

"Today's his birthday." He reached beside the dog and picked up a book of matches. "He would have been one."

Tears poured down her cheeks. So Walt was here, in their son's room with a dog they'd talked about getting, celebrating alone. That was so wrong. The match flared. He leaned forward.

She couldn't bear it. "Don't."

He stopped, Sebastian woofed. Very careful y, Walt stood and turned. In front of him she could see a corner of the brightly decorated racing car birthday cake he'd bought.

"It's his birthday, Kathy. I can't pretend he didn't exist, that this day isn't special."

Neither could she. She took a step into the room. Then another, feeling the pain rise up, keeping her gaze locked on Walt's so it wouldn't overwhelm her. She stopped right in front of him, unable to read his expression. She didn't know what to say, except, "I loved him, too."

It was as if she'd given him the world. He shook out the match. His arms came around her, strong and secure the way they always had. "I know."

And standing in them, she let herself feel the love he always had for her, clinging to it as tightly as she clung to his arms while she confessed, "I didn't mean to sleep through his feeding time. I swear I didn't."

His grip tightened. "Kathy, you can't think like that. It wasn't your fault."

"But if I'd woken up I might have-"

His finger caught under her chin, lifting. "If you hear nothing else, hear this. The only person I've ever blamed for Danny's death was myself."

"How could you possibly blame yourself? You weren't even there."

"Exactly. I wasn't there. Not before, during, or after." His thumb tucked into the corner of her mouth with the haunting softness of a kiss. "But you were, and you were hurting and there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing I could do to make it better. No matter what I tried I only made it worse, until final y, you left."

"I didn't leave."

"What the hel would you cal it?"

It sounded so stupid. "Sparing myself the humiliation of you kicking me out."

His grip on her chin tightened to the point of pain, and then he let go, but only to wrap his arms around her and hold her so tightly her ribs hurt. Beneath her ear was the beat of his heart, around her the strength of his arms. And somehow her arms were around his waist, too, holding him just as tightly. It wasn't close enough.

His cheek settled on her head. "I told you the day you gave yourself to me, there was no going back."

He'd been nineteen to her eighteen. So young. "But you couldn't know this would happen."

He couldn't know they'd lose their baby.

His gaze didn't flinch from hers, just held steady with that conviction that was so much a part of him. Once Walt set his path he never varied from it. He was always that sure.

"I've always known we were forever, sweetheart, and no matter what life threw at us, I always knew I wanted to go through it al with you."

"Even after . . ."

His thumb pressed, parting her lips. "Especial y after."

Grief darkened the gray of his eyes. "He was our son. It was our loss. No one else understood how that hurt, how it stil hurts."

Oh G.o.d, it did hurt. "But-"

His mouth found hers, cutting off the protest, softly, at first as if he, too, had forgotten the path home, but then his head tilted, his mouth opened and the emotion flowed. Love, pa.s.sion, grief, joy-it came at her in a dazzling array. Al she'd ever wanted. Al she'd needed, just waiting for this moment, for her. Just waiting to guide her out of the abyss, back to solid ground.

She locked her arms behind his neck. Oh, G.o.d, she'd missed this so much, missed him so much.

I love you. I love you. I love you. The words kept pounding in her head, picking up the pace of her pulse, fil ing her lungs, her mind, her heart.

"I love you, too."

She breathed in the vow, holding him tighter.

"Don't ever let me go again. Please."

b.u.t.terfly kisses brushed over her cheek, nose, and lashes. So many, so soft compared to the steel in his voice.

"Never. From now on, Kathy girl, if things get rough, we turn in, not away."

Into each other's arms. Into their love. She relaxed into his embrace. "Yes."

Together they were strong enough to survive anything.

A cold nose shoved between them, brus.h.i.+ng the exposed flesh of her stomach. She jumped.

Walt chuckled. How she'd missed that sound most of al .

"I think someone's jealous."

"Yes."

He stepped back, letting the dog between them. Kathy didn't mind. Sebastion needed love, too.

"You might as wel know, while you were gal ivanting about-"

She pretended to slap his arm. "I was getting help."

He caught her hand, but didn't let go, as if having her near was too new for him, also.

"Uh-huh, wel , while you were working things out, Sebastian and I had a talk."

"And?" She knew what was coming. Walt wouldn't invite just anyone to his son's birthday party.

"He's decided he'd like to stay."

It was a statement and a question in one. She looked down at the red, white, and orange cake with the spot on the corner that looked suspiciously like it'd been doggie nibbled. In the middle sat a single red candle shaped in the form of a number one. Danny's favorite color.

She took a breath against the wash of pain, holding Walt's hand, knowing he was going to be there at the end, making it bearable.

"Kathy . . ."

She squeezed Walt's hand as she imagined Danny there beside the cake, his st.u.r.dy body dressed in denim shorts and a s.h.i.+rt, his smile lighting up the room when he saw Sebastian. Tears spil ed over her cheeks. Bold and fearless but so sweet. Danny had been such a good boy.

The best of Walt and her.

I love you, baby.

The image faded.

"Kathy?" Walt asked again, turning her to face him. "We don't have to keep him."

Her first instinct was to hide what she'd been thinking, but she looked at the cake again. The cake wasn't store- bought. Walt had had it made up specifical y for the occasion in Danny's favorite colors with Danny's favorite toys decorating the border. It was exactly what she would have done if she could have. Moving back into Walt's embrace, she put her hand against his chest, feeling the medal ion beneath his white T-s.h.i.+rt. He hadn't taken it off.

"I was just imagining Danny here, picturing his face when he saw what you've done." She looked up, catching the same torment in his eyes that lived inside her. "He would have loved that cake, Walt."

For a second, his expression broke. It was such a shame men weren't al owed to cry. The tears he didn't shed roughened his voice.

"I hoped so. Every time I looked back, al I could see was that d.a.m.ned funeral with everyone dressed in black and not a color to be found. It never struck me as right. He was a happy kid. I just wanted . . ." He choked off, his hand clenching in a fist.

She eased her fingers between his, giving him something else to hold onto other than the pain.

"A happy memory?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "A happy memory."

Bringing his hand to her mouth, she pressed a kiss to the center of his palm before wrapping his arm back around her waist, binding them together.

"It's al right, Walt."

And it real y was. The cake wasn't perfect. Neither was the dog. Nor was Walt, or herself for that matter, but together they could get a start on something perfect for al of them. A new beginning.

She wiped at her tears before holding out her hand.

"Give me the matches."