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what it was.

"Nope, it's not," Tor said to Jacob. "Ain't fair at all. No one should lose anybody like this, especially not their mother. But you know in your head that it was an accident--your heart's just going

to take some time to figure that out. It's okay to be angry, kid. Be mad, be furious and upset, be sad.

Just don't let the anger be stronger than loving your memories of your mom."

Jake listened to Jacob breathe for a moment, a long shaky breath that he let out slowly. He found

himself wishing that Jacob would just let it go, start to let out the pain, but the boy wasn't ready for that, apparently, or at least wasn't willing to start crying in front of an audience. Jake heard him

stand up, the springs in the chair protesting for a moment.

"Yeah. Okay," Jacob said, his tone dismissing the topic. "I'm going to get a drink of water and go to bed. You really should take Uncle Jake to your room, though. That couch is lumpy."

"I'll do that, kid." Tor took a deep breath, his chest pushing Jake up. "Try to sleep, yeah? And if you need to talk, you know where we are."

"Okay, thanks."

"I mean it, Jacob--you need to talk, we'll listen. Doesn't matter what time of the night."

There was a pause, and then the sound of steps on the carpet, sneakers not quite lifted high enough.

"Thank you," Jacob said, his voice tired. "Good night, Uncle Tor."

"Night, kid."

Jake waited until he was sure Jacob was gone before sitting up. His back ached, and he rubbed at it

with one hand, the other going up to smooth his hair. "Hey."

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Tor's hand joined his own, rubbing at his lower back with soothing strokes. "Hey. How much did

you hear?"

"Most, I think." Jake groaned and turned, letting Tor get a better angle. "God, I'm getting old. That kid's in a world of hurt."

"Yep."

Jake shifted around, stretching. He really should have known better than to sleep like that, he fig-

ured. He was far too old for anything but a bed. "We have to help him, you know."

"Of course."

"It would be easier if he decided on his own to come with us," Jake said, thinking out loud. Not that it would change any practical arrangements, but it would be a world easier for Jacob if he saw that

going to live with them was best for all of them, given the situation.

"Yeah. Maybe he will." Tor swung around and sat up next to him. "Have you had time to think at all?"

Jake nodded. "Yeah, about a couple of things. I called Jacob's school; he's got another three weeks of classes. Think I better stay here. Cath'll have to get back to work, and we'll need time to sort out

'Lissa's things."

Tor nodded slowly. "Got hay coming in."

"Yeah. You'll have to hire on more hands, no way around it."

"Going to be strapped this summer, then. Lots of money going out." Tor was just stating facts, his tone easy and his voice smooth.

Jake nodded; it was true, this was going to be a lean year and they could ill afford for him to be off

the ranch for a month. There wasn't any help for it, though, and Jake was pretty sure they'd find a

way around it. They had to.

"I'm going to call that lawyer tomorrow, too," Jake added. "My blood relatives aren't going to be a help. Best head that off as best we can, get the paperwork started."

Tor nodded again and suddenly touched Jake's jaw, his hand gentle. The gesture was tender and

wildly out of character, but Jake found himself nuzzling Tor's fingers, needing it. Needing the lov
-

ing.

"Your kin might raise a fuss, but your family will help," Tor said softly. "Count on it."

Jake knew he could.

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The next two days were a bit of a blur for Jake. He talked to a lawyer and managed to stay focused

long enough to make sure that the paperwork was going to get started and that everything was on

track. Outside of someone filing to contest the custody arrangement, the process would go quietly

and smoothly, but it would take months.

His big question; whether he and Tor would be able to take Jacob home to Arkansas, was addressed

early in the conversation. Then he kind of tuned out, his mind racing ahead to which room they

could give him, what needed to be done about transferring schools, who they had to talk to, and all

kinds of things that he really didn't have any control over.

Jake's sense of control seemed to have utterly vanished. He had no power over anything anymore, it

felt like. He didn't know what was going to happen with Jacob, with 'Lissa's home and belongings,

with money… he didn't even know what was going to happen to 'Lissa's remains. Every time he

asked a question and got an answer, the answer slid through him, over him, and he found himself

wanting to ask again a few hours later.

He dragged Tor into their borrowed bedroom at one point, shaking in confusion and fear of every-

thing he didn't understand. He needed something solid to hang onto, something and someone he

knew he could count on. Tor held him and whispered promises that everything was going to work

out, that they had answers that would make sense when Jake had a chance to deal with them.

"You're just not ready yet, not ready to think clearly, and that's okay," Tor told him. "I'm doing it for you, Jake. It'll be okay, I promise. Let me take care of it for now. Let go."

Jake nodded because he didn't really have any choice. Burrowing into Tor's arms he closed his eyes

and tried to breathe. "It's horrible," he whispered. "Never felt like this. Not even when we had our trouble."

Tor kissed him and sighed softly. "I know."

Jacob was floating around the house, his eyes distant. Jake and Tor both tried to talk to him about

moving, but after he retreated to his room again they let it rest. Cath said that she'd try to talk to

him, but the closed door kept them from him and the three of them agreed to just let it go until after

the funeral, at least.

The phone stopped ringing off the hook but every time it
did
ring Jake wound up with a tension

knot in his gut, worried that someone had managed to reach James. He didn't really want to think

that he was the sort of man to deny a brother the chance to say goodbye to a sister, but Jake had no

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doubt that any sign of James would spell trouble for them and Jacob. By the morning of the funeral,

however, there had been no word from James, and Jake forced himself to put his brother from his

mind.

It occurred to him that the amount of things he was deliberately not thinking about was about the

same size as the pile of things he actually had to deal with as soon as he could get his brain to func-

tion properly again. The problems weren't going to go anywhere, and by not thinking about them he

was simply pushing things aside, letting them fester. But he couldn't seem to make himself deal

with them. Not yet.

The funeral itself was the easiest part, in a way. He didn't have to do anything other than sit and

listen and hold onto Tor's hand on his right and Cath's on his left. He didn't have to talk or share or think. He stared blankly ahead of him, his eyes on a framed photo of 'Lissa, seeing only the months

and years ahead of him as he tried to raise her son up to be a good man.

He looked away to glance at Tor when the fingers around his squeezed harder. He assumed some-

one had said something especially poignant, but didn't know for sure; he wasn't listening. He only

knew that the smell of the flowers was getting cloying and that the sunlight streaming in a side

window did nothing to illuminate and only served to show off the dust motes floating through the

air.

When the hymns were done and everyone who was supposed to say something had done so, Tor

left him to help two cousins, a neighbor, and two people Jake didn't recognize carry the coffin out

to the waiting hearse. Jake held onto Cath's hand and followed, Jacob on her other side, and they

left.

Jacob didn't cry. Cath did.

They got into the funeral home's sedan and followed 'Lissa to the place where she would be buried,

none of them talking, Cath still sobbing quietly. Jake grabbed hold of Tor's hand again as soon as

he could, and they stood at the head of her grave, listening to the minister commit her to the earth.

When he was supposed to, he lifted a spade full of dirt and watched it cascade onto the polished,

gleaming wood of her casket, the sound of each grain hitting it like a hollow thump in his ears.

Then there were people, milling about, walking carefully up to him and Cath and Jacob, offering

words and hands and more than a few hugs. Jake did what was expected, murmuring soft words

again and again, until it felt like a constant stream of nothing, his numbness made vocal.

At last, the words were done, the people were leaving, and the minister was shaking Jake's hand.

Tor led him away with a hand at the small of Jake's back, and when they were in another car, just

the two of them, Jake broke down and clung to his man as he finally started to say goodbye to his

sister.

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Chris Owen

The house was full of people. There were groups gathered in the kitchen, in the living room, out on

the lawn. Jake had expected it, even welcomed it. It meant he could sort of float, say a few words to

people, and move on. He didn't have to maintain an entire conversation with anyone.

He'd gone right to the bathroom when he and Tor had arrived, spending a few moments with a cold

washcloth so he didn't look quite so trashed. He studied himself in the mirror, told himself he

needed sleep, and realized with a shock that he felt a little calmer, a little more like he'd survive the day. Possibly.

Cath was in the kitchen talking to a group of women whom Jake assumed were 'Lissa's friends. He

caught her eye long enough to make sure that she was okay, and moved onto the living room, look-

ing for Tor. Jacob was in there, sitting on the couch and talking to a few adults who looked uncom-

fortable, as if they were just as clueless about what to say to the boy as Jake was. Maybe more.

Tor wasn't there, though, so Jake paused only long enough to accept condolences from people who

offered them and to nod to David, who was keeping a careful eye on his mother. Jess was talking

quietly to a man Jake vaguely remembered from the distant past, and otherwise ignoring Jake and

Tor. She'd spoken to Cath at the graveyard, but she'd passed him right by.

Thank God for small mercies, he thought.

Outside, Tor was sitting on the front step, talking on the phone and wearing the half smile he

seemed to save up for his niece. "Gotta go," he said, looking up Jake. "I'll call you in a couple of days." He paused and nodded. "I'll tell him. Hug your momma for us. Bye."

Jake sat down next to him and leaned in a little. "How're they?" he asked.

"Good. Said to give you their love and tell you they'd be in touch real soon. If there's anything they can do…"

Jake nodded. "Thanks."

Tor slipped his arm around Jake's waist. "How are you doing?"

"Better." Jake inclined his head. "Thanks," he said again. "Sorry I--"

"Nothing to be sorry about."

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There wasn't, and Jake knew it. "Okay."

They sat there for a few minutes, listening to the hum of voices from the yard and through the open

windows next to them. There was a round of laughter and Jake found himself smiling a tiny bit; it

had been days since he'd heard anything like that. A car pulled in and a few more people arrived,

nodding to him and Tor before being joined by a man from the lawn.

Jake closed his eyes and rested his head on Tor's shoulder; was just opening his mouth to say he

was feeling tired and like he could sleep for a year, when there was a shout from inside the house.

"You nasty old bitch!"

Jake sat bolt upright and Tor was already on his way in, throwing open the screen door just as Ja-

cob said it again.

"You bitch! How dare you say anything about them? How dare you say anything at all? My
mom

chose them, you old cow, and you have no right!"

Jake pushed past Tor and looked around the room. Stunned faces looked at Jacob, who was stand-

ing in the middle of the room, his good hand clenched into a fist. Jess was on the couch, her mouth

open as she stared at Jacob.

"David, take her out of here," Jake said quietly. "You're not welcome here, Jess. Go poison someone else."

Jacob turned and fled, stomping off to his room. The slam of the door shook the walls.

Jess stood up, looking at the people watching her. "If you think for one moment--"

"Get out." Jake took a step forward. "You have no say. Melissa made plans for her son, and everyone is going to honor her wishes. Period. You are an evil, nasty old woman, and I won't permit you

to--"

"Jake." Tor's hand landed on his shoulder. "Go see to Jacob. I'll deal with this."

Jake didn't even look back as he left the room. He had no intention of seeing any of those people

ever again. He was about one word from just taking Jacob and heading to Arkansas, the law and

school and everything else be damned.

At Jacob's door he knocked once and opened it, not willing to be blocked out this time. There was

too much pain and upset, and he wasn't going to take silence for an answer, not when he needed to

see Jacob's eyes. He slipped into the room and leaned back on the closed door, waiting.

"She's evil," Jacob said, staring the floor. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, rocking back and forth, cradling his cast.