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Penny drifted. On their return to the house after church the day before, Gabe insisted she take a sedative to calm her nerves before putting her to bed. She had no idea what he'd given her, but she knew there was a pharmacy to choose from, remnants of the numerous failed attempts at counseling since Bradley had died. Part of her fuzzy brain seemed to remember waking in the night, engulfed in tears and misery. She thought there might have been a second pill at that point, followed by her husband's strong arms, and murmured words as he rocked her back to sleep. Words...had he been praying?
Joints popped as she stretched. Gabe was a good man. Better than I probably deserve right now. Memories of her behavior yesterday surfaced in her groggy brain, and she cringed. Did I really say those horrible things? She buried any thoughts of remorse in a deep hole next to her son. She refused to be sorry for her outburst. Her son was dead. Someone had to bear the blame. When she flopped onto her back, sunlight angled through the slats in the blinds and stabbed her eyes. Penny blinked. How late is it, anyway?
A loud thump from down the hall distracted her from thoughts of the time. She lay still and tried to isolate the sound. When it came again, dread and fury filled her in equal portions. She tossed the covers aside and raced down the hall to Bradley's room. The view from the open doorway froze her feet to the floor. One word scrambled from her brain and lodged in her throat with no sound. No!
Bradley's bed had been dismantled. The sheets and bedspread lay in a pile on the floor. The mattresses, headboard, and frame leaned against a wall no longer decorated with sports posters. She swallowed, finally finding her vocal chords.
"No!" She stumbled into the room, picked up the bedding, and held it to her chest. Sobs shuddered through her body. Her words erupted in a shrill scream. "What do you think you're doing?"
A weary sigh came from the inside of the walk-in closet. Gabe stepped into the light, holding a bundle of Bradley's clothing in his arms. When he raised his head, Penny saw tears on his face. She ignored them. How dare he violate this space?
"Exactly what it looks like. I'm cleaning out Bradley's room." He swiped his face on the wad of clothes, and his harsh cough filled the room. "It's time to move on with our lives."
"Time to...what are you talking about?"
Gabe moved into the room and dumped the clothes into a box. When he looked up, Penny stepped back, away from the resolve she read in his expression.
"We can't live like this anymore." He dragged his fingers through his hair. "I've said that so much, I'm beginning to sound like a broken record." Gabe held his hands out in an open invitation. "Look at yourself, Penny. When was the last time you had a haircut?" He motioned to her clothes, and she pulled the baggy T-shirt she'd slept in around herself. "You're nothing but skin and bones. When was the last time you ate a decent meal, or had any interest in doing anything other than sitting in this room?" He looked at the clock sitting on the dresser. "It's two in the afternoon. You've been asleep for almost twenty four hours."
Penny straightened. "I was asleep because you drugged me."
"I drugged you because you were hysterical from the scene you caused outside the church." He met her gaze. "Our. Son. Raped. That. Girl."
"No, she—"
"Did nothing." Gabe interrupted. He paced a few steps away, dragging his hands through his hair and down the length of his face. When he turned his eyes implored her for understanding. "The least we owed Scottlyn Rich was enough indifference to allow her to live her life in peace. Instead, we've done nothing but make her life a misery." He looked at the floor, then returned his gaze to her, straightening his shoulders. "Have you forgotten that she wasn't the only one? What about that nursing student who made the same accusation? Are you going to stand there in your delusional self-righteous grief and tell me that they both lied?"
He gave her a moment to respond, and continued when she didn't. "No answer? Can you dig down under your grief for just a second and think about the rest of us? You've allowed your anger to cut you off from everyone around you. You have two other sons and a husband who need you. Jared and Joel will be home from their Montana trip in a couple of days. They've been gone since they graduated, you haven't asked about them once. We should be getting their stuff ready for college, planning a welcome home party."
He raised his hands in supplication. "Our twenty-fifth anniversary is in October. What about our plans to celebrate in Cancun, to have the honeymoon we never got to have?"
"How can you be so selfish?"
"I don't call it selfish, I call it done. I'm not living in a mausoleum for another day. We both go back to counseling in the morning."
Penny turned away from her husband. The disarray of the room cut her more deeply than the truth of his words. "Gabe, please don't do this. Help me hang up Bradley's clothes and put the bed back together. I'm not ready to let him go."
Her husband's impatient sigh sounded heavy in the room. "Why can't you hear me?"
"You don't—"
"Pick three things," he told her.
"What?"
"I know you need to grieve, and I know you need to keep him close while you do. Pick three things to keep here. The rest is going into storage just as soon as I can get it packed away and a facility rented."
She looked around the room, rocking in place and tugging at the hem of her shirt. Panic squeezed the breath from her lungs. "We have an attic."
"And you think I'm going to put everything up there so you can simply change the location of your daily vigil? Think again."
"Gabe..."
Her husband shook his head. "I love you, Penny, and I loved our son, but Bradley is gone. You have to learn to live with the fact that he isn't coming back."
The bed clothes fell to the floor when Penny raised her hands to her ears. "Don't say that!"
"Penny—"
"No!" The single shouted word echoed in the room. She turned and raked her hand over the top of the dresser. Her action sent trophies and high school memories crashing to the floor. Her furious steps took her to the bookcase. She cleared the shelves in four swipes. Penny stood in the middle of the mess, her chest heaving with sorrow and exertion.
"I hate you!"
"And I love you."
His soft response deflated her temper. Penny lowered her gaze to her feet, shoulders slumped, emotions spent. A scrap of cloth protruding from the mess on the floor caught her eye. What...? She stooped to pull it free. The books fell away to reveal a worn receiving blanket. Faded dinosaurs frolicked in a forest washed almost colorless by numerous laundry days. Bradley's blankie. He kept it all these years. A tremor began in her heart and spread to her fingertips. She closed her eyes and saw her little boy dragging the blanket from room to room like a character in a comic strip. She remembered the days he sat on a stool in front of the dryer, waiting for it to come out clean and warm. I thought we'd have to make socks out of this silly thing to keep him from dragging it to school.
Penny raised the worn flannel to her nose and inhaled. All trace of her son was long gone, replaced by the dust of too many years. Oh baby, where did I go wrong? A muffled sob escaped into the room, and her knees threatened to buckle. She turned for the door.
"Penny?"
She ignored her husband and continued down the hall with the blanket clutched in her arms. She pulled her purse off the hook by the door, climbed into her car, and drove.
***
SCOTTLYN STOOD AT THE window of the nursery, her arm around Liz's shoulders. She was beyond weary. Liz's baby had arrived at eight the previous evening, healthy and screaming his lungs out. An event that should have been joyous but was instead filled with tears as Liz and her mother held each other and discussed, again, the impossibilities of raising the child. It was two more hours before Scottlyn was able to pull away and get home to Mercie. Once she slept, nightmares haunted her dreams. Visions of life without her daughter, brought on either by Liz's heartbreaking situation or Penny Nelson's threats.
Useless threats. She'd spoken to Grant's father again today. Embarrassed to seek him out, but reassured by what he'd had to say.
She took a deep breath and forced her brain to focus on the here and now. Beyond the glass wall, newborns rested in clear acrylic bassinets. The window was crowded with proud parents showing off their newborns. One couple stood to the left, arms around each other, whispering softly as their eyes lingered on their brand new miracle. Scottlyn smiled. Next time she'd do it right, sharing every bit of the nine month journey, and the joy at the end, with a husband. Maybe Grant...She stopped the daydream in its tracks and returned to the here and now. She scanned the last names on the cards and finally found the one she was looking for. The dark haired baby boy was fast asleep, his lips moving in unconscious sucking motions. She squeezed Liz's skinny shoulders. "You did good."
"He is beautiful, isn't he?"
"Absolutely perfect." Scottlyn bit her lip, almost afraid to ask. "So...did you decide to hold him?"
Liz shook her head and pressed her mouth into a hard line. "No, just looking at him is hard enough. If I held him..."
Scottlyn turned the younger girl from the window and steered her to the bank of elevators further down the hall. "Let's go back to your room." She kept her arm around her friend as they walked and waited for Liz to take the lead in the conversation.
Liz shook free when the elevator door began its silent glide shut and stuck her hand out to stop the door. She leaned through the opening and gazed back down the corridor. The longing on the younger girl's face almost broke Scottlyn's heart. A few days removed from the fear of losing her child by force, she could only imagine the emotions involved in giving a baby up by choice. Father give her strength. "We can go back for a few minutes, if you're not ready to leave."
Liz pulled herself up straight. "No. I asked them to put me on a floor other than maternity so I wouldn't be so close. I have to let him go." She stabbed the button for the next floor up. "He's being circumcised this evening and going home with his...parents... first thing in the morning. I think they're releasing me tomorrow night." Her brave façade evaporated, and she sagged against the wall of the elevator. "Can you come spend the morning with me tomorrow? I don't know what I'll do if I'm by myself, knowing that my baby is going home without me."
"Your mom—"
"She couldn't afford to take any more time off work." She shook her head. "Never mind, you've done enough. I'll be OK."
"Yes, you will, because I'll be here by eight. I'll bring us some chocolate milk and donuts for breakfast."
"Thanks." Liz looked at Scottlyn with tears gleaming in her eyes. "Nothing in my life has ever been this hard. My heart is so tangled up. Do you think things will ever go back to normal?"
The door dinged open before Scottlyn had to answer that impossible question. Liz led the way back to her room while Scottlyn offered up another silent prayer for wisdom. The younger girl settled herself in the hospital bed and collapsed on a stack of pillows.
"I used to run for fun. I can't believe how tired a short walk down the hall makes me."
Scottlyn released a sigh of relief when it seemed as if the question of normal was off the table. "Having a baby is hard work. You'll need to take it extra easy for the next couple of weeks."
Liz nodded her acceptance. "So?"
Oops...guess I didn't dodge normal after all. Silence stretched while Scottlyn tried to form an answer. She finally lifted a shoulder. "I don't think normal ever applies once you've had a baby, regardless of what happens afterward. It does something to your heart that can't ever be undone. That's probably not the answer you wanted, but I won't lie to you."
Liz's head fell back on the pillows, and Scottlyn saw two fat tears slide down her cheeks. She sat on the edge of the bed, took one of Liz's hands, and squeezed. "I wish I could help more."
Liz returned the pressure. "I know I'm doing the right thing, but it feels like my heart is being ripped out by the roots."
"I promise it will get better. I know how empty those words sound right now, but you have to give yourself some time to heal, physically and emotionally. By the time school starts, you'll be ready to get back to the theater classes and track meets that you love so much. There's a rumor that the drama club is planning a production of My Fair Lady." She paused, leaned forward, and brushed Liz's long dark hair from her face. "With your figure and voice, you're a natural for the lead in that."
Liz shrugged.
Scottlyn pressed on. "You'll be old enough to drive soon, too. How many months until you have your license?"
"Three." The younger girl's voice remained listless and unanimated.
"See, you've got lots to look forward to. It'll be Christmas before you know it."
Liz's face crumpled. "And I can see my baby."
Scottlyn sighed in defeat. It seemed as if every detour she took was doomed to circle back to the same topic. "Yes, you can see your baby." She tried a final time to cheer up her friend. "How about we plan a shopping trip? I'll help you pick out some gifts for your baby."
Liz scrambled from her prone position and pulled Scottlyn into a desperate hug. "Spencer. They named my son Spencer."