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Carla Martin sat in a corner of the couch in the living room, looking old and drained, receiving messages of sympathy stiffly and without making eye contact.
Kacie finally gathered her courage to speak with the young widow, and approached Carla with a shaky but determined step. Sitting down next to the woman, Kacie took a trembling hand in her own and held it without saying a word.
Carla leaned her head onto Kacie's shoulder and closed her eyes wearily. Kacie automatically slid her arm around the woman's shoulder and rested her cheek against the blonde head, patting the widow's back.
"Oh, Kacie. What do I do now? What do I do? I'm so afraid that Whitney will forget her father. And our baby...our baby will never even know who his father was. What am I supposed to do now?"
Kacie took a deep breath and answered slowly. "First, you'll make yourself wake up each morning. You will force your eyes open. Next, you'll take a breath. And a little while later, you'll tell yourself to take another one. And pretty soon, you won't have to tell yourself to wake up each morning. You won't have to remind yourself to breathe. You'll just start to do it all on your own." She swallowed as her voice began to thin, remembering all too clearly her own time of pain and loss when her father and brother had been killed.
A sob clogged Kacie's throat as she went on. "Your children? Your children will know their father, because you'll be the one to tell them all about him. The way he looked, the way he smiled, and how very much he loved them and their mother."
"I can't believe he's gone." Carla shook her head. "I'll never see him again. He'll never touch me again. How do I live without him? Where do I find the strength to go on?"
Peter stopped at the doorway to listen a moment. {I want to take Kacie home.} He could see the way her forehead was furrowed, and the slight squint of her eyes told him that she was battling a fierce headache. {I've got to get her out of here.} He hovered anxiously, just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to interrupt.
Kacie squeezed Carla's hand and asked quietly, "Can you feel your baby move?"
Surprised by the question, Carla sat up and looked at Kacie. "All afternoon. This baby kicks harder than Whitney ever did."
"Carla, every time your baby kicks, a part of Jack is still here, saying, 'Honey, I love you. I'm here with you. I'll always be with you.' Because of your and Jack's love, you have two beautiful reminders of him. When you look at Whit, what's the first thing you see?"
"Jack's smile. She's always had Jack's smile."
Kacie laid a land on Carla's bulging stomach and felt a strong push into her palm. A look of discovery spread over Carla's face, and a smile turned up the corners of her mouth. "It's just like you said, isn't it? He's not completely gone, is he? He is still here with me."
Kacie's throat closed and tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded her head with a watery smile.
{That's enough,} Peter thought, and reached the pair at the same time as Carla's father. "Kacie, are you ready to go?" he asked gently.
Carla hugged Kacie tearfully. "Thank you for being here for me, Kacie. You, more than anyone I know, understand how I feel."
Kacie simply patted Carla's back, her own emotional control hanging by a very slim thread. The only thing keeping her from unraveling entirely was the strong, loving hand that now rested on her shoulder.
Carla's father interrupted. "Carla, Whitney is asking for you, Honey."
"OK, Dad."
Both women got to their feet, and Carla turned to Peter. "Thank you, Peter. For being a good friend to Jack, and to me." She kissed his cheek before allowing her father to lead her away.
Kacie placed both hands on Peter's chest and rested her forehead between them. "Take me home," she whispered hoarsely. "I just want you to take me home."
He started for the kitchen to brew the special mix of herbs his father kept prepared for Kacie's infrequent headaches, but she stopped him with her voice. "Wait. Change first."
"But, Honey, your headache..."
"Change first." Her voice cracked. "I don't want to look at you in that uniform any more." As he still hesitated, she started to cry softly. "You look too much like Dad and Kevin did the last time I ever saw them. Please change. Please."
"All right, Kace. All right." He put the hat and gloves away carefully in their box and put the container back on the closet shelf. He quickly stripped out of the rest of the uniform and threw it in a corner of the room. {It'll have to be cleaned, anyway.} Grabbing a sweatshirt and jeans, he dressed swiftly before rushing to the kitchen.
He reentered in a matter of minutes and set down on the bedside table a coffee mug containing the tea. Helping Kacie sit up, he held her securely against one shoulder before handing her the mug. She took it in trembling hands, drinking the mixture without tasting it. After she had finished it, he set the mug aside and helped her lie back down. Sliding into bed beside her, he held her, her back to his chest, and the top of her head under his chin.
Kacie put her arms on top of Peter's and interlaced their fingers. "I hope I die before you do," she said softly.
Peter gasped and stiffened in alarm at her words. "What made you say something like that?" He held her more closely, as if that action alone would keep her words from ever happening.
"It would kill me to lose you. If you died, I wouldn't want to live anyway." Her voice thickened. "I've been handed two flags in this lifetime already; I won't take a third. I won't do it. I won't!"
Peter wanted to argue with her, but realized that now was not the time. {She's been worked up ever since Jack was shot. Damn it. Why did she have to be there at the hospital when he was brought in? Why did Carla have to pick her to cling to?} Controlling his agitation, he murmured, "Do you really want to talk about it now?"
She sighed in a long, shuddering expulsion of air. "No-o-o. I just want to lie here, and feel your arms around me, and fall asleep knowing that when I wake up in the morning, you'll still be here beside me." She rolled over in his arms to face him. "I love you, Peter Caine."
Kissing her tenderly, he whispered, "I love you more."
She kissed him back, and yawned sleepily. "I love you most. That means...I...win."
"That means I win, too," Peter murmured softly, as he watched Kacie's eyes flutter and remain closed.
He contemplated getting up and taking care of some chores around the apartment, until he thought of the Martin family and their loss. {Jack will never hold his wife again, never make love to her. He'll never see his new baby.}
He lay with his thoughts for a long time, holding Kacie in his arms and appreciating the gift called life. Even then, he kept hearing a tiny voice saying, 'I want my Daddy. Where's my Daddy?' The voice haunted him until he dropped into an exhausted sleep.