A Gift from the Past (10 page)

She shook her head, dismissing his question and raced for the front door. Alone. She needed to be alone to deal with this tragedy. Breathing a trembling sigh, she reached her bedroom, but was surprised to find Joshua immediately behind her.

“Joshua…please…I need to be alone…” His face blurred and she realized her eyes were filled with tears that begged to be released. She turned away, but he stopped her by grabbing her forearm.

“Tell me what's wrong, Claire,” he said, his voice betraying worry. “What happened?”

She tried to pull away from him, but he held tight. “Please…just let me go,” she begged, hot tears now burning her cheeks.

“No, not until you tell me what's going on,” he exclaimed.

“He's dead.” The words exploded from her
along with a choked sob. Again she tried to yank away from him, frustrated when he refused to relinquish his hold on her.

“Who's dead?” His hand tightened on her arm. “Did something happen to Sarge?”

“No…Caleb…Caleb is dead.” She half screamed the words and stumbled backward as he finally let go of her.

He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes displaying confusion. “Caleb? Who the hell is Caleb?”

She sank down on the edge of her bed, her legs unable to hold her upright another minute. “Caleb Walker. Sarah and Daniel's son. He's dead, Joshua. He died.”

He sat down next to her on the bed, his expression still one of confusion. “Of course he's dead, Cookie,” he said gently. “Caleb Walker lived a very long time ago.”

She shook her head vehemently, aware that he didn't understand. “No…he died when he was just two years old…I saw the funeral. I feel Sarah and Daniel's pain and it hurts. Oh, God, Joshua, it hurts so badly.”

Sobs clawed at her throat and she started to turn away from him, horrified that he would see her like this, terrified because she couldn't stop the wrenching cries that came from her along with the flood of tears.

He didn't allow her to turn away. He wrapped
his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. For a moment she fought him, believing what she wanted more than anything was privacy and the inner strength to pull herself together. She felt stupid, weak. It was ridiculous for her to fall apart over the death of a little boy a century and a half ago, a little boy she'd never known.

But Joshua fought, too, holding on to her until she collapsed against him, deep sobs ripping through her.

“It's all right,” he murmured softly as he stroked her hair. “Go ahead and cry, Claire. Cry for Caleb.”

And she did. She clung to him and wept as she couldn't remember crying before. Each time she thought the tears were depleted, a new round gripped her, leaving her weak and gasping in Joshua's arms.

“It's not fair,” she sobbed and buried her face in the broad expanse of his warm chest. “He was just a little boy.”

“I know…I know, baby.” Joshua's eyes misted as a depth of emotion rose up in him. “It's okay to cry, Claire. Cry for Caleb. Cry for Sammy.”

It was then she realized her tears were not for Sarah and Daniel's child, but rather for her own. It had taken her five long years, but she was finally crying for her son.

J
oshua hadn't been fooled. He knew from the moment she'd begun to cry that Claire's tears weren't for a little boy who had died well over a hundred years before. He'd known instantly that she wept for little Sammy and the emptiness his death had left behind.

As Claire cried, Joshua wept, too, his heart filled with pain for himself and for Claire. When her sobs subsided, leaving behind tiny hiccuping gasps, he laid her back on the bed but kept her in his arms.

After a few minutes she fell asleep, apparently exhausted by the torrent of emotions she'd experienced. He watched her sleep, grateful that he'd been here to hold her while she'd finally grieved
for the son they'd lost, grateful that they'd finally had the chance to hold one another.

He frowned, thinking back to those days and weeks after Sammy had left them. While he'd railed and sobbed, drunk and cussed, Claire had remained dry-eyed and stoic. She'd thrown herself into housecleaning, cooking elaborate meals, grocery shopping and taking ceramic classes at the community center.

He'd wanted to talk about Sammy, try to figure out why this had happened to them. But she'd refused to talk to him about anything to do with Sammy. In fact, she'd stopped talking to him altogether, stopped touching him, stopped making love with him.

For the first month he told himself that eventually she'd come back to him, that there would come a time when she'd reach for him with need, with passion, with love. But days had passed, weeks, then months and he'd begun to die inside.

It was then he'd realized he had to leave. There was simply no reason to stay. Whatever good had existed between them had apparently been buried with Sammy.

Claire slept for less than an hour, then began to stir. She opened her reddened, slightly swollen eyes and sat up. “I…I'm sorry.” She averted her gaze from his. “I…I can't believe I did that.”

He smiled. “I can't believe it took you this long to do that. Claire…” He took hold of her chin,
forcing her to look at him. “You shouldn't be ashamed or embarrassed about crying.”

She nodded. “I just can't believe finding out about Caleb Walker made me lose it like that.” She moved away from him and stood. “I've got to get busy.” She looked around in distraction.

“Before you do, there's something I want to show you.” He got up off the bed. “Come with me.”

He led her down the hallway to the bedroom where he had been staying. “What?” she asked, hesitating on the threshold.

“Come. Sit.” He gestured toward the bed and grabbed his laptop computer from the top of the dresser.

With a look of bewilderment, she did as he bid, sitting on the edge of the bed. He sat next to her and placed the compact computer on his lap, then turned it on.

“When I first learned to program computer games, I made up one just for myself, not for commercial use.” The computer whirred and clicked as it loaded, sounds that had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. “It will probably seem stupid to you, but playing it always brought me a dose of comfort.”

She said nothing, but watched curiously as he quickly typed in a series of commands. The screen went black for a moment, then filled with a series
of white dancing stars that formed the words, Sammy Gets His Wings.

He heard her utter a soft gasp and for a moment thought she might get up and leave. But she remained beside him, leaning close, her features a mixture of dread and reluctant curiosity.

The title disappeared and a little boy's face appeared, a little boy who looked remarkably like Sammy. “The object of the game is to get Sammy to heaven where he gets his angel wings,” he said softly. “During the journey he encounters a number of obstacles, but he has two helpmates along the way.”

“His mother and his father,” Claire said in a whisper.

He nodded and pulled up the two characters.

Again she gasped. “They look just like us.”

“Well, as good as computer images can look,” he replied. Using the touchpad, he quickly worked through the game as she watched. “I made it very easy. It was important to me that every time I played it, I won.”

Within seconds he'd reached the end of the game and wings appeared on Sammy's back. With a beatific smile, the computer Sammy waved. “Goodbye Mommy, goodbye Daddy. I'll be waiting for you in heaven,” he said.

The screen went blank, but Joshua continued to stare at it. “I can't tell you how many nights I played this game. It always made me feel bet
ter…close to Sammy and close to you.” He finally turned to look at her and saw tears shining in her eyes once again.

“It's beautiful, Joshua.” Her gaze held his intently. “Do you really believe Sammy is in heaven?”

“Without a doubt,” he replied firmly, then smiled. “He and Caleb Walker are probably great friends. I'll bet if we listen real hard we could hear them giggling as they wreak havoc in heaven, the way only two little boys can.”

She smiled and he recognized the smile of a woman finally at peace. He knew that there would always be a piece of their hearts that would retain the painful loss of their son, but whether it was her tears for Sammy or the thought of him in heaven, there was definitely a shine of resigned peace in her eyes.

Just as he had known that now had been the time to show her his game, he also knew that now was the time to tell her of his love.

“Claire,” he began and placed the laptop on the bed next to him. “I want it back, Cookie.” He took her hands in his. “I want our life back. I love you. I've never stopped loving you and I need us to be together again.”

Whatever it had been he'd hoped to see on her face, in her eyes, it wasn't there. Pain etched its way across her features as she pulled her hands
from his. “You don't know what you're asking,” she said and stood.

“I'm asking you to be my wife again, for us to have more children together, spend our days and nights together, grow old together.”

“I can't do that.” Her eyes were dark once again, haunted. “We had our chance at happiness, Joshua, and it wasn't in our cards.”

“But it could be!” he exclaimed fervently. “I know you still love me, Cookie.” He leaned toward her. “It's in your eyes when you look at me. I tasted it in your kisses. Give us a chance to get it right.”

“I can't.” Her voice rang with a slight hint of bitterness and she drew a deep breath. “You left me, Joshua. We had lost our son and you walked out on me.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “You left me alone and I can't forget that.”

“You were alone before I left,” he said curtly, surprised to find his own anger rising up inside him. “I didn't walk out, you froze me out.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed and rose and walked out of his bedroom.

He followed behind her, recognizing somewhere in the back of his mind that his anger was quickly spinning out of control. He was also aware of the fact that it wasn't an anger bred of this moment, but rather one that had been born on the day he'd left five years before.

“It isn't ridiculous, Claire,” he said as they en
tered the living room. “You pushed me out of your life. You wouldn't talk to me, cry with me. Hell, you wouldn't even make love with me.” In an instant, all the emotions he'd felt at that time came back, the despair, the frustration and the aching loneliness.

“At the time, that's not what I needed from you.” Her voice was shriller than he'd ever heard it and he realized this was what was needed between them, a clearing of the air, a naked display of emotions that just might make them stronger in the end.

“Then what did you need from me, Claire?” He ran a hand through his hair and stared at her. Even with his anger, even with her own anger, in the back place of his heart he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and make everything in both their worlds right again. “For God's sake, please tell me what you needed from me.”

“Nothing.” She looked away from him, the anger in her voice gone. “I just needed you to let me deal with things my own way, but I didn't need you to abandon me and I can't—I won't forgive you for that.”

Joshua felt something die inside him as he heard her say what he'd always believed, that she hadn't needed him. He hadn't realized until this moment how desperately he'd needed her to need him.

“You don't play fair, Cookie. You shove me out of your life, then you're angry because I leave.”
He'd been wrong, this clearing of the air between them hadn't helped them. He feared it had just destroyed them.

“I'm finished talking about this,” she said stiffly.

“Don't worry, I'm done.” He headed for the front door. “I'm going for a walk. I need some fresh air. But think about this—maybe you didn't need me, but did you ever think about the fact that I might have needed you?”

He didn't wait for her reply. He left the house, a grief such as he'd never known before weighing heavy in his heart. Initially, when Sammy had died, he'd grieved long and hard, but believed he'd have the comfort of Claire at his side.

Even in the five years he'd been away, Claire had never been out of his heart, out of his thoughts. He realized now that deep in his heart, he'd hoped they'd get back together and fulfill the future he believed destiny had mapped for them.

He didn't stop walking until he reached the city square, then he sank onto a stone bench beneath a leafy shade tree and buried his head in his hands.

He'd always believed he'd walked away from Claire because he'd wanted her to need him. But now he was faced with the truth of the matter. He'd walked away because he'd needed her so badly and she hadn't been there for him. He'd walked away because he'd been too weak to stay.

 

As soon as he walked out the front door, Claire went back to her bedroom and sank down on the edge of her bed. She was exhausted, first from her crying jag and then from the emotional outburst with Joshua.

Joshua. Her heart cried as her mind replayed his words.
I love you…I need us to be together again.
But for how long? Until the next tragedy struck their lives? For life was made of triumphs and tragedies, and any couple that shared their lives experienced both.

He'd walked away from her before and she couldn't believe that he wouldn't again. As much as she loved him, as much as she wished she could believe in him again, she couldn't.

It was funny, she'd thought that the reason she wouldn't share a future with Joshua was that she had intended never to have children again.

But her tears for Sammy had swept away the fear in her heart. Loving Sammy and grieving for him had opened her heart to the possibility of more children in her life. She had a wealth of love to give and the memory of Sammy now merely served to strengthen her desire to have another child.

Still, she couldn't let go of her anger where Joshua was concerned. As she got up from the bed, her gaze fell on the tin box that held the picture of Sarah and Daniel.

She didn't want to look at it, didn't want to see
if the picture had transformed itself yet again. And yet, she couldn't not look.

Her fingers trembled as she opened the box and withdrew the photo. For a moment she didn't look at it, but simply held it in her hands, feeling the electrical currents that emanated from it.

She'd come to believe that the photo somehow mirrored her and Joshua's emotions. Would it now show Sarah all alone? Had the death of Caleb Walker torn Sarah and Daniel apart just as Sammy's death had ripped apart her and Joshua's marriage?

For some reason she knew that if she looked at the picture and saw Sarah all alone, a little piece of herself would die.

She lowered her gaze and gasped. Sarah wasn't alone. She and Daniel stood together and in front of them were two children, a boy about eight years old and a girl who looked to be about six.

Claire threw the picture across the room as tears sprang to her eyes. It was as if the photo mocked her, showing her a picture of the happy family she would never have.

There was no magic in that picture. It was simply a cruel trick to break her heart once again.

She got up and left the bedroom, refusing to cry over Joshua. He'd made his decision to walk out of her life five years before and now she was making her choice to keep him out of her life forever.

She needed action. She began unloading the clean dishes from the dishwasher, trying desper
ately to keep her mind a calm blank. But the conversation with Joshua refused to stay quiet.

I didn't walk out, you froze me out.

You don't play fair. You shove me out of your life then you're angry because I leave.

The words he'd said to her played and replayed in her mind. She hadn't done that, had she? He was just looking to place blame on her shoulders instead of accepting the consequences of what he'd done.

But, hadn't Melinda said something in the same vein to her last night in the rest room? Something about wanting to comfort her, but getting the impression that Claire wanted only to be alone?

She shoved these disturbing thoughts aside, refusing to dwell on them. She finished putting the dishes away, then made herself a glass of iced tea and sat outside on the porch swing.

She wondered where Joshua had gone and how much longer he'd be staying. Now that he knew there was nothing left for him here, surely he'd go back to California. He'd leave again, only this time he'd never return. Wasn't that what she wanted?

Rubbing her forehead, she realized she'd never felt so empty inside. She felt as if she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life, but told herself that trusting Joshua again would be the real mistake.

She didn't know how long she'd been sitting on the porch when a white van pulled up and the side
door opened to allow Sarge to roll his wheelchair out.