“Well, it's hard to...”
Tammy had not said a word, and sitting stiffly in her chair, she didn't even appear to be paying attention.
“No,” she said quietly.
Michael stopped and stared at his wife. She was focused on Dr. Sanders.
“I'm not going through that to gain a couple weeks or months. Unless you can tell me that it will be cured or will buy me Years, I won't do it.”
“But Tammy...” Michael began.
“No, Michael, I will not go through that. I've seen what it's like.”
She was still staring at the doctor.
“Well, Doc, does it have that potential?”
“To buy you years or cure you?”
Tammy nodded her head at him.
“Well, anything is possible but,” He shrugged his shoulders “....no, probably not.”
Michael slumped back into his chair. He had lost his only son and now his wife was going to be taken from him. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. The injustice ate at his very soul. Something welled up in him. He didn't know if it was the anger and frustration or something else, something darker, stronger. He wouldn't accept what was happening. He couldn't.
He knew the reason his wife wouldn't fight the disease was because of their son. She had not been the same woman since that day. She'd lost her desire to take part in everyday life and seemed to just drift along.
The only fire he saw in her was when Detective Jason Strong would call with updates. She would get excited when she saw the number on the caller ID, and then she would sink back into depression when there was nothing new.
Dr. Sanders went on to discuss the path the disease would take and what steps could be taken to ease Tammy's suffering. He gave her four to six months. Michael looked at a calendar on the wall. Four to six months. Four months was the three-Year anniversary of the kidnapping.
The rest of the appointment was a blur. He asked questions, but couldn't remember the answers. When they were done, he helped his wife up and out to the car. There were no words between them on the way home, but Michael was sure that his wife looked at peace. She looked as if a weight had been removed, not as if a death sentence had been delivered.
He didn't feel peace. He felt like he was dying inside, leaving an empty hole where his soul was. And he felt something else. A darkness was creeping in and filling the void. He sensed dark days ahead.
****
There was another blue and white cake on the table at Katie and Wade Duncan's house. This time it read: ‘Welcome Home, Jesse’. The house seemed as if it would lift off at any time because of the number of balloons hung around the walls.
“When's baby coming?”
Jack was standing on the couch, looking out the front window.
“Soon, Jack.”
Shirley ruffled her grandson's hair. Now her oldest grandson, she realized. She had a youngest and an oldest now, with the birth of Jesse.
It had been a wonderful three Years with Jack, and the news that Katie was pregnant again had only added to it.
There seemed to be no fear this time and Dr. Phelps had even suggested that the adoption of Jack might have relaxed Katie enough that there wouldn't be any more problems. He was right. Jesse had come on time and the delivery had gone smoothly.
“They’re here!”
Jack jumped down, ran to the door, and pulled it open. Katie led the way, carrying a little bundle wrapped in a blue blanket. Wade followed with a diaper bag and gifts.
When everyone was inside, Katie sat on the couch so that Jack could see his new little brother. Jack's eyes were glued to the little baby. He reached out and touched Jesse's tiny hand, and giggled when Jesse pulled it away. All of a sudden, Shirley saw Jack sit up, as if remembering something.
“Cake now?”
Laughter filled the house.
“Yes, Jack, cake now.”
****
Throughout the afternoon, friends stopped by to see the new baby and visit. There were more gifts and lots of pictures. The whole time, Jack played the big brother, telling everyone who came to see the baby that his name was Jesse. By the end of the evening, Katie was exhausted, and bedtime brought relief for everyone.
Wade tucked Jack in and sat on the side of the bed. They said their prayers, including a special one for Jesse. As Wade stared down at his son, he could tell that a question was forming. Jack always got that look of concentration when he was wondering something.
“What is it, Jack?”
“Will he get big like me?”
Wade grinned and kissed his son's forehead.
“Yup, and you and he will be best buddies.”
Jack liked the idea.
“Best buddies,” he repeated, and closed his eyes.
Katie was waiting for Wade at the bedroom door. Together, they looked back at Jack. He had made all the difference in their lives. He had made them a family. Now Jesse was here. Wade kissed her, and seemed to read her mind.
“Those people will never know what they did for us, will they?”
“No, but I wish they could.”
****
Three months had passed since Dr. Sanders had given Michael and Tammy Barton the news. Michael had never really recovered from the loss of his son, and he still hoped that someday he would be returned to them. Tammy had given up hope that she would ever see her son again, and her decline from the cancer was faster than even the doctor had expected.
Michael knew it was because she had lost the will. The will to keep looking, keep hoping, keep fighting. She stirred slightly in her hospital bed, and he realized she was looking at him.
“You okay? The pain meds helping?”
She nodded and pointed at the water pitcher. He got up and filled her water bottle, placing the straw to her lips when he was done. She smiled a thank you and rolled over. She was back asleep in moments.
Michael sat back down in the chair he had spent most of the last week in. They were in a semi-private room, but there was no one in the other bed. The woman who had been there had passed away two days ago. He had been glad that Tammy was asleep at the time. He didn't want to be looking into her eyes as they both thought the same thing: soon.
The TV had been on the Weather Channel constantly, but only as background noise. It didn't seem to matter how hot it was outside or if it was going to rain. Michael sat staring at the screen without seeing.
****
There was a commotion in the hall outside of Tammy's room. Michael got up to see what was going on and found a man, in cuffs, being dragged down the hall by two officers. Holding one arm was a uniformed officer, and the other was Detective Jason Strong.
“Jason, Jason. What's going on?”
The detective recognized Michael.
“Michael, this is the man who took your son. We got a tip and found him here at the hospital.”
Michael couldn't believe his ears.
“Where's my son?”
“We don't know yet; we're taking him downtown for questioning.”
Michael looked at the man that Jason was taking out of the hospital, and his anger took hold. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife, charging the cuffed man.
He stabbed him repeatedly in the back, jabbing the knife in over and over again. Blood spurted up his arms as panic set in around him. People were screaming his name.
“Michael...Michael!”
Michael nearly jumped out of his seat as he awoke with a start, looking around to see Tammy watching him.
“Yeah, you all right?”